THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


POT-POUEEI  FEOM  A  SUEEEY  GAEDEN 


POT-POURRI 


FROM 


A    SURREY    GARDEN 


BY 

MRS.    C.   W.    EARLE 


WITH     AN    APPENDIX 

BY 

LADY    CONSTANCE    LYTTON 


TEATH  EDITION. 


NEW    YORK 

E.   P.  DUTTON   &   COMPANY 
31  WEST  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET 

1898 


TO    MY    SISTER 
THE    COUNTESS    OF    LYTTON 


PREFACE 

THESE  '  Notes '  would  never  have  been  extracted 
from  me  without  the  encouragement  I  have  received 
from  all  my  dear  nieces,  real  and  adopted,  and  the 
very  practical  assistance  of  one  of  them.  Now  that 
the  book  is  written,  I  can  only  hope  that  it  will  not 
prove  too  great  a  disappointment  to  them  all. 


CONTENTS 


JANUARY 

Introductory — Indispensable  books — An  old  Hertfordshire  gar- 
den— Eeminiscences — My    present    garden    plants    in   a 
London    room  —  Japanese    floral    arrangement — Cooki 
vegetables    and   fruit — Making    coffee — Early  blossoms — 
Winter  gardening — Frost  pictures  on  window-panes    . 


FEBRUARY 

Forced  bulbs — The  exhibitions  of  the  Eoyal  Horticultural 
Society — Early  spring  salads  and  vegetables — Ehubarb 
tarts — Orange  marmalade — Eeceipts  by  a  French  chef  .  23 


MARCH 

Slow-growing  hardy  shrubs — The  Swanley  Horticultural  College 
— Gardening  as  an  employment  for  women — Aucubas  berries 
— Planting  Asparagus — Brussels  Sprouts — Sowing  annuals 
— A  list  of  flowering  creepers — '  The  Poet  in  the  City ' — 
Old  illustrated  gardening  books 38 


APRIL 

Whims  of  the  weather — Spring  flowers — The  herbaceous  nur- 
sery— Love  for  the  garden — A  light  sprayer — Homely 
French  receipt— French  gardening — The  late  frosfs  .  .  70 


x   POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

MAY 

PAGE 

Vegetable  growing — Autumn  annuals— Spring  seeds— Descrip- 
tion of  my  own  garden — Weeding — Houses  facing  west — 
Flowering  shrubs — May  flowers— Sundials — Eoses  and 
Creepers — History  of  the  Tulip — Salads — Plant  shelters — 
Sweet  Verbena — Blue  Anemones — Packing  cut  flowers — 
A  few  simple  receipts— Plants  in  pots  .  .  .86 

JUNE 

Hands  and  fingers  after  weeding — Shrub-pruning— Boxes  for 
birds — Eobins  in  greenhouse — '  Burning  Bush  ' — Two  Poly- 
gonums — Strawberries— Geraniums  and  cuttings— Cactuses 
— Freezia  bulbs — Gloriosa  superba — Luncheon  dishes — 
Cucumbers 116 

JULY 

The  Welsh  Poppy — Astrantias— Old  Green  Peas — Red  Currants 
— The  Madonna  Lily,  L'&pte  de  la  Vierge — The  value  of  the 
reserve  garden — An  English  summer's  day — Light  soils  and 
dry  summers — Other  people's  gardens— Notebooks— Sunny 
lawns — Dutch  gardens — Fountains  and  water-tanks — 
Lobelia  cardinalis — Watering  out  of  doors — Two  hardy 
shrubs 128 

AUGUST 

Gilbert  White— The  decline  of  vegetable  culture  in  the  Middle 
Ages— Preserving  French  Beans  and  Scarlet  Runners— 
Scotch  gardens — Tropceolum  speciosum — Crimson-berried 
Elder— The  coast  of  Sutherlandshire— The  abuse  of  coarse 
Creepers 145 

SEPTEMBER 

Weeds  we  alternately  love  and  hate — Amaryllis  belladonna — 
First  touch  of  frost — Colour-blindness — Special  annuals — 
Autumn  seed-sowing— Re-planting  Carnation  layers — 
Planting  drives  and  approaches  to  small  houses — '  Wild 
gardening  '—Double  Violets— Sal vias— Baby  chickens— 
Pigeons ICO 


CONTENTS  xi 

OCTOBER 

PAGE 

Autumn  mornings  and  robins — Italian  Daturas — The  useful 
•Myticuttah'— Nerines--  Three  Cape  greenhouse  plants — 
Sweet  Chestnuts— Other  people's  gardening  difficulties — 
Making  new  beds— The  great  Apple  time— French  White 
Haricot— The  stewing  of  chickens  and  game—  Re-planting 
Violas  and  Saxifrages—'  St.  Luke's  summer  '—Plants  for 
August,  September,  and  October— London  gardens  .  .  178 


NOVEMBER 

Letting  in  the  autumn  sun — Jerusalem  Artichokes — Hardy 
Bamboos  —  Polygonum  cuspidatum  —  Autumn  flowers  — 
Small  Beech-trees— Last  day  in  the  country— Some  garden- 
ing books  of  this  century  . 202 

DECEMBER 

Orchid-growing  on  a  small  scale — Miss  Jekyll's  articles  in  the 
'  Guardian  ' — Winter  vegetables— Laver  as  a  vegetable — 
Advice  to  housekeepers — Cooking  sun-dried  fruit  .  .  249 

SONS 

Boys  and  girls — The  health  question — Early  independence — 
Public  schools— Influence  of  parents — The  management  of 

money Family  life  and  its  difficulties — Sir  Henry  Taylor — 

'  Mothers  and  Sons  '—The  feeding  of  children — The  abuse 
of  athletics— Success  in  life— Spartan  upbringing — Youth 
and  age 257 

FURNISHING 

Books  on  furnishing — Smoking — Morris's  '  Lectures  on  Art ' — 
London  houses — New  and  second-hand  furniture — Curtains 
versus  blinds — White  paint — Bookcases — Bed-rooms — Bath- 
rooms— Bedding— Useful  tables— Rain-water  .  .  .  276 


DAY  IN  LONDON 
Advantages  of  suburbs— London  life — Picture  exhibitions         .     289 


xii     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY   GARDEN 
HEALTH 

PAGK 

Nurses — '  Janet's  Repentance ' — Private  hospitals — Sick-nursing 

— Convalescence — Medical  books          .  .  296 

AMATEUR  ARTISTS 

Amateurs — Want  of  occupation — Work  amongst  the  poor — 
Music  and  drawing — Buskin's  teaching — Technical  skill — , 
Natural  and  acquired  talent — Leaving  home — Water-colours 
versus  oils 307 

DAUGHTERS 

School-girls — Ignorance  of  parents — The  confidence  of  children 
must  be  gained — The  way  to  do  it — Drawbacks  of  nurseries 
and  school-rooms  —  Over-education — Show-training — Deli- 
cate girls — A  woman's  vocation — Superficial  teaching — 
Children's  tempers — Modern  girls — Herbert  Spencer  and 
education — J.  P.  Eichter — Liberty  and  independence — 
Serious  studies— What  young  girls  should  read — Parents 
and  children — Friendships  —  Girls'  allowances — Dress — 
Professions— Strong  feelings — Management  of  house  and 
family — Early  rising — Life  in  society 317 

APPENDIX 
Japanese  art  of  arranging  cut  flowers 353 

INDEX  ,     367 


POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


JANUARY 

Introductory — Indispensable  books — An  old  Hertfordshire  garden — 
Reminiscences— My  present  garden  plants  in  a  London  room — 
Japanese  floral  arrangement — Cooking  vegetables  and  fruit — 
Making  coffee — Early  blossoms— Winter  gardening— Frost  pic- 
tures on  window-panes. 

January  %id. — I  am  not  going  to  write  a  gardening 
book,  or  a  cookery  book,  or  a  book  on  furnishing  or 
education.  Plenty  of  these  have  been  published  lately. 
I  merely  wish  to  talk  to  you  on  paper  about  several  sub- 
jects as  they  occur  to  me  throughout  one  year ;  and  if 
such  desultory  notes  prove  to  be  of  any  use  to  you  or 
others,  so  much  the  better.  One  can  only  teach  from 
personal  knowledge  ;  yet  how  exceedingly  limited  that  is  ! 

The  fact  that  I  shall  mention  gardening  every  month 
will  give  this  subject  preponderance  throughout  the  book. 
At  the  same  time  I  shall  in  no  way  attempt  to  super- 
sede books  on  gardening,  that  are  much  fuller  and  more 
complete  than  anything  I  could  write.  For  those  who 
care  to  learn  gardening  in  the  way  I  have  learnt,  I  may 
mention,  before  I  go  further,  three  books  which  seem  to 
me  absolutely  essential — '  The  English  Flower  Garden,' 
by  W.  Eobinson ;  '  The  Vegetable  Garden/  translated  from 
the  French,  edited  by  W.  Eobinson;  and  Johnson's 


2  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

'  Gardener's  Dictionary,'  by  C.  H.  Wright  and  D. 
Dewar.  This  last  supplies  any  deficiencies  in  the  other 
two,  and  it  teaches  the  cultivation  of  plants  under  glass. 

The  cookery  book  to  which  I  shall  refer  is  '  Dainty 
Dishes,'  by  Lady  Harriet  Sinclair.  It  is  an  old  one,  and 
has  often  been  reprinted.  I  have  known  it  all  my  married 
life,  and  have  found  no  other  book  on  cooking  so  useful, 
so  clear,  or  in  such  good  taste.  It  is  the  only  English 
cookery  book  I  know  that  has  been  translated  into 
German. 

I  have  given  you  the  names  of  these  books,  as  it  is 
through  them  I  have  learnt  most  of  what  I  know,  both  in 
gardening  and  cooking.  It  is,  however,  undeniable  that, 
as  the  old  proverb  says,  you  may  drag  a  horse  to  the 
water,  but  you  can't  make  him  drink  ;  and  unless,  when  I 
name  plants  or  vegetables  for  the  table,  you  look  them  up 
in  the  books,  you  will  derive  very  little  benefit  from  these 
notes. 

Just  now  it  seems  as  if  everybody  wrote  books 
which  nobody  reads.  This  is  probably  what  I  am  doing 
myself;  but,  so  far  as  gardening  is  concerned,  at  any  rate, 
I  have  read  and  studied  very  hard,  as  I  began  to  learn 
quite  late  in  life.  I  never  buy  a  plant,  or  have  one  given 
me,  without  looking  it  up  in  the  books  and  providing 
it  with  the  best  treatment  in  my  power.  If  a  plant 
fails,  I  always  blame  myself,  and  feel  sure  I  have  culti- 
vated it  wrongly.  No  day  goes  by  without  my  study- 
ing some  of  my  books  or  reading  one  or  more  of  the  very 
excellent  gardening  newspapers  that  are  published  weekly. 
This  is  how  I  also  learnt  cooking  when  I  was  younger, 
always  going  to  the  book  when  a  dish  was  wrong. 
In  this  way  one  becomes  independent  of  cooks  and 
gardeners,  because,  if  they  leave,  one  can  always  teach 
another.  Nothing  is  more  unjust  than  the  way  a  great 
many  people  find  fault  with  their  gardeners,  and,  like  the 


JANUARY  3 

Egyptians  of  old,  demand  bricks  without  straw.  How 
can  a  man  who  has  had  little  education  and  no  experience 
be  expected  to  know  about  plants  that  come  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  and  require  individual  treatment  and 
understanding  to  make  them  grow  here  at  all  ?  Or  how 
can  a  cook  be  expected  to  dress  vegetables  when  she  has 
never  been  taught  how  to  do  it  ?  In  England  her  one 
instruction  has  usually  been  to  throw  a  large  handful  of 
coarse  soda  into  the  water,  with  a  view  to  making  it  soft 
and  keeping  the  colour  of  the  vegetables,  whereas,  in  fact, 
she  by  so  doing  destroys  their  health-giving  properties  ; 
and  every  housekeeper  should  see  that  it  is  not  done. 
Her  next  idea  is  to  hand  over  the  cooking  of  the 
vegetables  to  a  raw  girl  of  a  kitchen-maid,  if  she  has  one. 

I  am  most  anxious  that  anybody  who  does  not  care 
for  old  Herbals  should  pass  over  those  catalogued  in 
March ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  that  those  who  are 
interested  in  gardening  should  look  through  the  Novem- 
ber list  of  books,  as  they  will  find  many  modern  ones 
mentioned  there  which  may  be  useful  to  them  for 
practical  purposes. 

My  hope  and  wish  is  that  my  reader  will  take  me 
by  the  hand ;  for  I  do  not  reap,  and  I  do  not  sow.  I  am 
merely,  like  so  many  other  women  of  the  past  and  present, 
a  patient  gleaner  in  the  fields  of  knowledge,  and  absolutely 
dependent  on  human  sympathy  in  order  to  do  anything 
at  all.  I  cannot  explain  too  much  that  the  object  of  my 
book  is  to  try  to  make  everyone  think  for  him  or  herself, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  profit  by  the  instruction  which  in 
these  days  is  so  easy  to  get,  and  is  all  around  us.  Women 
are  still  behind  the  other  sex  in  the  power  of  thinking 
at  all,  much  more  so  in  the  power  of  thinking  of  several 
things  at  once.  I  hope  the  coming  women  may  see  the 
great  advantage  of  training  their  minds  early  in  life  to  be 
a  practical  denial  of  Swift's  cynical  assertion  that '  mankind 

B2 


4  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

are  as  unfit  for  flying  as  for  thinking.'  Nothing  can  be  done 
well  without  thought — certainly  not  gardening,  nor  house- 
keeping, nor  managing  children.  A  curious  example  of 
this  is  given  in  a  recently  published  account  of  the  most 
famous  of  modern  jugglers.  He  says  that  he  trained  his 
brain  in  youth  to  exert  itself  in  three  different  ways  at 
the  same  time.  This  no  doubt  is  the  reason  that  he  is 
now  pre-eminent  in  his  own  line. 

January  3rd. — I  will  begin  by  telling  you  that  I  was 
brought  up  for  the  most  part  in  the  country,  in  a 
beautiful,  wild,  old-fashioned  garden.  This  garden, 
through  circumstances,  had  remained  in  the  hands  of  an 
old  gardener  for  more  than  thirty  years,  which  carries 
us  back  nearly  a  century.  Like  so  many  young  people 
I  see  about  me  now,  I  cared  only  for  the  flowers 
growing,  that  I  might  have  the  pleasure  of  pick- 
ing them.  Mr.  Euskin  says  that  it  is  luxurious  and 
pleasure-loving  people  who  like  them  gathered.  Garden- 
ing is,  I  think,  essentially  the  amusement  of  the  middle- 
aged  and  old.  The  lives  of  the  young,  as  a  rule,  are  too 
full  to  give  the  time  and  attention  required. 

Almost  all  that  has  remained  in  my  mind  of  my 
young  days  in  this  garden  is  how  wonderfully  the  old 
man  kept  the  place.  He  succeeded  in  flowering  many 
things  year  after  year  with  no  one  to  help  him,  and  with 
the  frost  in  the  valley  to  contend  against  in  spring.  It 
was  difficult,  too,  for  him  to  get  seeds  or  plants,  since  the 
place  was  held  by  joint  owners,  whom  he  did  not  like  to 
ask  for  them.  The  spot  was  very  sheltered,  and  that  is 
one  of  the  greatest  of  all  secrets  for  plant  cultivation.  An 
ever-flowing  mill-stream  ran  all  round  the  garden ;  and 
the  hedges  of  China-roses,  Sweetbriar,  Honeysuckle,  and 
white  Hawthorn  tucked  their  toes  into  the  soft  mud,  and 
throve  year  after  year.  The  old  man  was  a  philosopher 
in  his  way,  and  when  on  a  cold  March  morning  my 


JANUARY  5 

sisters  and  I  used  to  rush  out  after  lessons  and  ask  him 
what  the  weather  was  going  to  be,  he  would  stop  his 
digging,  look  up  at  the  sky,  and  say  :  '  Well,  miss,  it  may 
be  fine  and  it  may  be  wet ;  and  if  the  sun  comes  out,  it 
will  be  warmer.'  After  this  solemn  announcement  he 
would  wipe  his  brow  and  resume  his  work,  and  we  went 
off,  quite  satisfied,  to  our  well-known  haunts  in  the 
Hertfordshire  woods,  to  gather  Violets  and  Primroses  for 
our  mother,  who  loved  them.  All  this,  you  will  see,  laid 
a  very  small  foundation  for  any  knowledge  of  garden- 
ing; and  yet,  owing  to  the  vivid  character  of  the  impressions 
of  youth,  it  left  a  memory  that  was  very  useful  to  me  when 
I  took  up  gardening  later  in  life.  To  this  day  I  can  smell 
the  tall  white  double  Rockets  that  throve  so  well  in  the 
damp  garden,  and  scented  the  evening  air.  They  grew 
by  the  side  of  glorious  bunches  of  Oriental  Poppies  and 
the  on-coming  spikes  of  the  feathery  Spircea  aruncus. 
This  garden  had  peculiar  charms  for  us,  because,  though 
we  hardly  realised  it,  such  gardens  were  already 
beginning  to  grow  out  of  fashion,  sacrificed  to  the  new 
bedding-out  system,  which  altered  the  whole  gardening 
of  Europe.  I  shall  allude  to  this  again.  I  can  never 
think  of  this  old  home  without  my  thoughts  recurring 
to  Hood's  poem  '  I  remember !  I  remember ! '  too  well 
known  perhaps,  even  by  the  young,  to  justify  my  quoting 
it  here.  Equally  graven  on  my  memory  is  a  much  less 
familiar  little  poem  my  widowed  mother  used  to  say 
to  me  as  we  walked  together  up  and  down  the  gravel 
paths,  with  the  primrose  sky  behind  the  tall  Beeches  of 
the  neighbouring  park.  For  years  I  never  knew  where  it 
came  from,  nor  where  she  learnt  it  in  her  own  sentimental 
youth.  Not  long  ago  I  found  it  in  a  book  of  selections. 
It  was  written  by  John  Hamilton  Reynolds,  that  warm 
friend  of  poor  Keats,  who,  as  Mr.  Sidney  Colvin  tells  us 
in  his  charming  Life  of  the  poet,  never  rose  to  any  great 


6  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

eminence  in  either  literature  or  law,  and  died  in  1852,  as 
clerk  of  the  county,  at  Newport,  Isle  of  Wight.  As  Mr. 
Colvin  remarks,  it  is  only  in  his  association  with  Keats 
that  his  name  will  live.  Yet  my  mother  loved  the  poem, 
which  is  full  of  the  sentiment  of  our  little  home  : — 

Go  where  the  water  glideth  gently  ever, 

Glideth  through  meadows  that  the  greenest  be ; 
Go,  listen  to  our  own  beloved  river, 

And  think  of  me. 

Wander  in  forests  where  the  small  flower  layeth 

Its  fairy  gem  beneath  the  giant  tree ; 
Listen  to  the  dim  brook  pining  while  it  playeth, 
And  think  of  me. 

Watch  when  the  sky  is  silver  pale  at  even, 

And  the  wind  grieveth  in  the  lonely  tree ; 
Go  out  beneath  the  solitary  heaven, 
And  think  of  me. 

And  when  the  moon  riseth  as  she  were  dreaming, 

And  treadeth  with  white  feet  the  lulled  sea, 
Go,  silent  as  a  star  beneath  her  beaming, 
And  think  of  me. 

But  enough  of  these  old  woman's  recollections,  and  back 
to  the  present,  for  the  sentiment  of  one  generation  is  very 
apt  to  appear  as  worthless  sentimentality  to  the  next. 

The  garden  I  have  now  is  a  small  piece  of  flat  ground 
surrounding  an  ordinary  suburban  house.  Kitchen- 
garden,  flower-garden,  house  and  drive  can  scarcely  cover 
more  than  two  acres.  The  garden  is  surrounded  by  large 
forest  trees,  Spanish  Chestnuts  and  Oaks,  whose  wicked 
roots  walk  into  all  the  beds  almost  as  fast  as  we  cut  them 
off.  The  soil  is  dry,  light  and  sandy,  and  ill-adapted  to 
garden  purposes.  We  are  only  sixteen  miles  from  London, 
and  on  unfavourable  days,  when  the  wind  is  in  the 
blighting  south-east,  the  afternoons  are  darkened  by 
the  smoke  of  the  huge  city.  This  is  an  immense  dis- 


JANUARY  7 

advantage  to  all  plant  life  and  very  injurious  to  Roses 
and  many  other  things.  For  five  or  six  months  in  the 
winter  I  live  away  in  London.  People  often  envy  me 
this,  and  say  :  '  What  could  you  do  in  the  garden  in  the 
whiter  ? '  But  no  true  gardener  would  make  this  remark, 
as  there  is  much  to  be  done  at  all  times  and  seasons. 
Half  the  interest  of  a  garden  is  the  constant  exercise  of 
the  imagination.  You  are  always  living  three,  or  indeed 
six,  months  hence.  I  believe  that  people  entirely  devoid 
of  imagination  never  can  be  really  good  gardeners.  To 
be  content  with  the  present,  and  not  striving  about  the 
future,  is  fatal. 

Living  in  London  in  the  winter  necessitates  crowding 
the  little  greenhouse  to  overflowing  with  plants  and 
flowers  adapted  for  sending  to  London — chosen  because 
they  will  bear  the  journey  well,  and  live  some  time  in 
water  on  their  arrival. 

January  16th. — I  can  hardly  do  better  to-day  than 
tell  you  about  my  dark  London  room,  and  what  I  have  in 
it  as  regards  plant  life  in  this  the  worst  month  of  the  year. 
I  will  begin  with  the  dead  and  dried  things  that  only  bear 
the  memory  of  the  summer  which  is  gone.  At  the  door 
stand  two  bright-green  olive-jars  that  came  from  Spain, 
into  which  are  stuck  large  bunches  of  the  white  seed-vessels 
of  Honesty  and  some  flowers  of  Everlastings  (Helichrysum 
bracteatum).  These  last  are  tied  in  bunches  on  to  Bamboo 
sticks,  to  make  them  stand  out.  Inside  the  room,  on  the 
end  of  the  piano,  is  a  large  dish  of  yellow,  green,  and  white 
Gourds.  I  grow  them  because  they  have  that  peculiar 
quality,  in  common  with  Oranges  and  autumn  leaves,  of 
appearing  to  give  out  in  the  winter  the  sunlight  they  have 
absorbed  in  the  summer.  Their  cultivation  does  not 
always  succeed  with  me,  as  they  want  a  better,  sunnier 
place  than  I  can  sometimes  afford  to  give  them.  In  a 
very  wet  summer  they  fail  altogether.  The  seeds  are 


8  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

sold  in  mixed  packets  ;  we  sow  them  at  the  end  of  April 
grow  them  on  in  heat,  and  plant  them  out  at  quite  the 
end  of  May.     In  fact,  we  treat  them  exactly  as  you  would 
Vegetable-marrows,  only  we  train  them  over  a  fence. 

On  the  backs  of  my  armchairs  are  thin  Liberty  silk 
oblong  bags,  like  miniature  saddle-bags,  filled  with  dried 
Lavender,  Sweet  Verbena,  and  Sweet  Geranium  leaves. 
This  mixture  is  much  more  fragrant  than  the  Lavender 
alone.  The  visitor  who  leans  back  in  his  chair  wonders 
from  where  the  sweet  scent  comes. 

On  the  side  ledge  of  two  large  windows  I  have  pots 
of  the  common  Ivy  of  our  hedges.  We  dig  it  up  any  time 
in  the  spring,  and  put  it  into  the  pots,  which  are  then 
sunk  into  the  ground  under  the  shade  of  some  wall,  and 
kept  well  watered.  Before  bringing  it  into  the  room  in 
winter,  it  is  trained  up  on  an  iron  stake  or  Bamboo-cane, 
singly  or  in  bunches,  to  give  variety  to  its  shapes.  If  kept 
tolerably  clean  and  watered,  this  Ivy  is  practically  unkill- 
able,  even  in  London. 

Then  there  are  some  pots  of  the  long-suffering  Aspidis- 
tras, the  two  kinds — variegated  and  dark  green.  These  also 
want  nothing  but  plenty  of  water,  and  sponging  the  dust 
off  the  leaves  twice  a  week.  They  make  pretty  pot-plants 
if  attended  to  during  the  summer  in  the  country.  They 
should  be  well  thinned  out  and  every  injured  leaf  cut  off, 
tied  together  towards  the  middle,  kept  growing  all  the 
summer  in  the  greenhouse,  and  encouraged  to  grow  tall ; 
they  are  then  more  graceful  and  satisfactory.  They 
seldom  want  dividing  or  re-potting.  I  have  two  sorts  of 
India-rubber  plants — the  large-leaved,  straight-growing 
common  Ficus  elastica,  and  the  Ficus  elastica  indica, 
which  is  a  little  more  delicate,  and  the  better  for  more 
heat  in  summer ;  but  it  has  a  smaller  leaf,  and  grows  in  a 
much  more  charming  way  than  the  other.  Keeping  the 
leaves  very  clean  is  of  paramount  importance  with  both 


JANUARY  9 

these  plants.  During  the  winter  they  want  very  little 
watering,  yet  should  never  be  allowed  to  get  quite  dry,  as 
this  would  make  the  leaves  droop.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
you  see  a  single  yellow  spot  on  the  leaves,  you  may  be 
sure  that  they  are  too  damp  ;  and,  if  watering  is  continued, 
the  leaves  will  turn  yellow,  and  eventually  fall  one  by  one. 
When  they  are  growing  in  heat  during  the  summer,  they 
must  be  watered  freely  and  the  leaves  well  syringed. 
Both  kinds  propagate  very  easily.  The  top  shoots  strike 
in  sand  and  heat ;  and  so  do  single  leaves,  if  cut  out  with 
the  eye  and  stuck  round  the  edge  of  the  pot.  Another 
plant  on  the  window-sill,  Phalangium  liliago  variegatum, 
is  of  the  same  family  as  St.  Bruno's  Lily,  that  lovely 
early  June  flower  in  our  gardens.  It  makes  a  most 
excellent  pot-plant,  young  or  old,  for  a  room  at  all  times 
of  the  year.  It  has  a  charming  growth,  and  throws  out 
branches  on  which  young  plants  grow  ;  these  can  be  left 
alone,  or  cut  off  and  potted  up  in  small  pots,  in  which  case 
they  root  easily  in  summer,  or  in  a  little  heat  at  other 
times  of  the  year.  The  flower  which  comes  on  the  plant 
in  summer  is  quite  insignificant.  It  is  very  easy  of 
cultivation,  though  not  quite  hardy ;  and  yet,  when  grown 
in  a  little  heat,  has  all  the  appearance  of  the  foliage  of  a 
delicate  stove-plant. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  is  a  Pandanus  veitchii. 
This  must  be  sparingly  watered.  It  is  a  delightful  winter 
pot-plant  in  all  its  sizes.  The  offsets  that  come  round 
the  stems  of  the  old  plant  root  very  easily  in  heat.  It 
does  not  mind  the  heat  of  the  fire,  but  resents  frost  on  the 
window-pane.  Cocos  weddeliana  and  its  varieties  are 
most  useful  and  well-known  drawing-room  plants,  from 
South  America.  To  save  time,  it  is  best  to  buy  small 
plants  from  a  nurseryman,  and  grow  them  on.  They  can, 
however,  be  grown  from  seed  in  a  hot-bed  in  spring,  but 
they  are  not  very  quick  growers. 


io  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

I  have,  wedged  in  Japanese  vases  in  the  Japanese  way, 
which  is  so  highly  decorative,1  two  branches  of  Physalis 
Alkekengi  (Winter  Cherry)  grown  from  seed.  They  last 
much  longer  in  a  room,  I  find,  if  cut,  stuck  into  clean 
water,  and  held  up  by  the  wedge,  than  they  do  when 
growing  in  a  pot ;  cutting  the  plants  well  back  makes 
them  a  better  shape,  and  they  flower  and  fruit  more  freely 
the  following  year. 

In  a  brass  Indian  vase  on  a  corner  of  the  chimney- 
piece  there  are  some  long  branches  of  the  Double  Plum 
(Prunus  spinosaflore  pleno).  These  branches,  with  their 
bright  green,  bring  spring  into  the  room  more  effectively 
than  anything  I  know.  The  little  shrub  is  easy  of 
cultivation,  and  more  than  most  things  repays  potting-up 
and  forcing.  We  plant  them  out  in  spring  in  a  half- 
shady  reserve  border,  and  in  August  we  cut  with  a  spade 
round  the  roots  of  those  plants  which  we  intend  to  pot 
up  in  October.  They  do  best  if  allowed  to  rest  alternate 
years.  The  charming  single  Deutzia  gracilis  is  treated  in 
exactly  the  same  way. 

Never  forget,  in  the  arranging  of  cut  flowers,  that  all 
shrubby  plants  and  many  perennials  last  much  longer 
in  water  if  the  stalks  are  peeled.  The  reason  is  obvious  : 
the  thick  bark  prevents  the  absorption  of  enough  water. 
In  the  case  of  succulent  plants,  splitting  up  the  ends  of 
the  stalks  is  often  sufficient. 

On  a  table  below  the  chimney-piece  is  a  small 
flower-glass  filled  with  a  pretty  early  greenhouse  flower, 


1  For  a  description  of  what  this  means  I  must  refer  you  to 
Mr.  J.  Conder's  interesting  book  (The  Floivers  of  Japan  and  the  Art 
of  Floral  Arrangement),  and  to  a  review  of  it  reprinted  at  the  end 
of  this  volume,  by  kind  permission  of  Mr.  W.  Bobinson,  from  The 
Garden  (37  Southampton  Street,  Strand)  of  October  6th,  1894.  My 
allusions  to  cut-flower  decorations  all  the  year  round  will  not  be 
understood  without  a  careful  reading  of  this  article. 


JANUARY  ir 

orange  and  red,  called  Chorozemia,  which  does  well  in 
water.  I  have  made  a  considerable  study  of  the  things 
that  last  well  in  water,  as  my  greenhouse  room  is  very 
limited,  and  it  has  to  hold  all  the  plants  that  are  planted 
out  next  summer.  The  usual  Primula  sinensis, 
Cinerarias,  and  many  other  things  die  before  they  get  up 
to  London  at  all.  In  summer  the  study  is  for  the  sake 
of  my  friends,  as  I  send  away  flowers  in  large  quantities, 
and  I  know  nothing  so  disappointing  as  to  receive  in 
London  a  box  of  flowers,  none  of  which  are  capable  of  re- 
viving when  put  into  water.  On  the  table,  by  the  side  of 
the  glass  mentioned  above,  stands  a  little  saucer  with 
precious,  sweet-smelling  Geranium  leaves.  These  float 
on  the  water,  patterning  the  white  surface  of  the  saucer, 
and  supporting  the  delicious  scented  flowers,  so  valuable 
in  January,  of  the  Chimonanthus  fragrans,  with  its  pretty 
brown  and  yellow  petals  growing,  as  they  do,  on  the  bare 
branches  of  the  shrub.  My  plant  of  Chimonanthus  is 
against  a  wall.  It  flowers  every  year  with  a  little  care,  for 
it  is  not  very  old,  but  it  does  not  grow  in  our  light  soil 
with  the  strength  and  luxuriance  it  acquires  in  clay  or 
loam.  In  Hertfordshire,  for  instance,  quite  long  branches 
can  be  cut  from  it,  which  look  very  beautiful  in  the  Japanese 
wedges.  Our  plant  gets  sufficiently  pruned  by  cutting 
back  the  flowering  branches.  We  water  it  thoroughly 
with  liquid  manure  when  the  leaves  are  forming  in  May, 
and  mulch  it  with  rotten  manure  in  October.  Jasminum 
nudiflorum,  which  also  flowers  well  in  the  winter  with  us, 
we  treat  in  the  same  way,  only  pruning  out  whole  branches 
when  it  has  done  flowering  in  spring.  No  general 
cutting-back  is  desirable,  as  that  spoils  the  growth  of  the 
plant  for  picking  next  year.  In  separate  different- sized 
glasses  round  the  saucer  I  have  a  bunch  of  Neapolitan 
Violets,  some  Eoman  Hyacinths,  Ivy-leaved  sweet 
Geraniums,  and  an  excessively  pretty  light-red  Amaryllis, 


12  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

from  bulbs  sent  to  me  this  autumn  straight  from 
Mauritius,  which  flower  well  in  the  little  stove.  All 
these  come  from  a  small  greenhouse,  part  of  which 
is  divided  off  so  as  to  allow  of  its  being  kept  at 
stove  heat.  A  fortnight  ago  we  had  large  bunches  of 
Echeveria  retusa,  a  most  useful,  easily  managed,  winter- 
flowering  plant.  It  looks  very  well  on  the  dinner-table, 
and  lasts  a  long  time  in  water.  Dividing  and  re-potting 
in  April,  and  keeping  it  on  a  sunny  shelf  through  the 
summer,  is  almost  all  the  care  it  requires.  Freesias,  too, 
are  well  worth  growing.  The  success  of  all  Cape  flower- 
ing bulbs  seems  to  depend  on  the  attention  paid  to  the  plant 
while  the  leaves  are  still  growing.  Many  gardeners,  when 
they  have  cut  the  flowers,  neglect  the  plants.  When  the 
leaves  die  down,  the  bulbs  want  well  baking  and  drying 
up  in  full  sun,  laying  the  pots  on  their  sides,  shaking  out 
the  bulbs  in  June  or  July,  sorting  them,  taking  off 
the  young  ones,  re-potting,  and  growing  on  for  early 
forcing. 

On  a  flower-table  by  the  window  are  glasses  with 
evergreens.  I  always  cut  with  discretion  my  Magnolia 
grandiflora  ;  not  a  very  large  plant  either,  yet  I  think  it 
does  it  nothing  but  good.  The  clean,  shiny,  dark- green 
leaves,  with  their  beautiful  rust-red  lining,  are  so  effective 
in  a  room ;  and  if  the  stalks  are  peeled,  they  last  quite 
a  month  in  water  without  deterioration.  You  know,  I 
daresay,  the  old  nursery  secret  of  growing  either  wheat 
or  canary-seed  on  wet  moss.  You  fill  some  shallow  pan 
or  small  basin  with  moss,  and  keep  it  quite  wet.  Sow 
your  seed  thickly  on  the  moss,  and  put  the  pan  away  in  a 
dark  cupboard  for  nine  or  ten  days.  When  about  two 
inches  high,  bring  it  out  and  put  it  in  a  sunny  window, 
turning  it  round,  so  as  to  make  it  grow  straight.  Wheat 
is  white  at  the  base  with  brave  little  sword-blades  of  green, 
on  which  often  hangs  a  drop  of  clear  water.  Canary-seed  is 


JANUARY  13 

red,  like  Rhubarb,  at  the  bottom  and  green  at  the  top.  I 
know  nothing  more  charming  to  grow  in  dull  town  rooms 
or  sick  rooms  than  these  two  seeds.  They  come  to  per- 
fection in  about  three  weeks,  and  last  for  another  five  or 
six.  Grown  in  small  saucers,  they  make  a  pretty  dinner- 
table  winter  decoration.  Another  rather  effective  change 
for  a  dinner-table  is  the  leaves  of  Bamboos,  put  all  day  into 
water  to  prevent  them  curling  up.  They  are  then  laid  on 
the  table-cloth  in  a  Japanese  pattern,  according  to  the  taste 
of  the  decorator,  with  an  occasional  flower  to  give  point 
to  the  design.  Double  red  Geraniums,  late-flowering 
Chrysanthemums,  Primulas,  even  clumps  of  Holly  or 
red  berries,  all  do  equally  well  for  this  purpose. 

Growing  acorns,  either  suspended  by  a  thin  wire  in  a 
bottle,  or  planted  in  wet  moss — five  or  six  of  them  together 
—in  flat  pans,  are  pretty.  If  put  into  heat  in  October,  they 
are  in  full  leaf  in  the  middle  of  January ;  but  if  grown 
in  a  cool  room,  the  leaves  only  expand  later. 

I  think  it  may  be  desirable  for  me  to  say  something 
each  month  about  cooking.  Many  people  neglect  to  use 
things  which  are  now  so  easily  got  with  or  without  a 
garden.  This  foreign  way  of  cooking  Potatoes  makes 
a  nice  variety: — After  partially  boiling  them,  cut  the 
Potatoes  into  slices  when  cold,  and  put  them  into  a 
saucepan.  Cover  them  with  milk  to  finish  cooking  them, 
and  add  fresh  butter,  Parsley,  pepper,  and  salt. 

Salsifys  are  quite  easily  grown,  and  are  very  good  if 
thrown  into  vinegar  and  water,  well  oiled,  cut  into  small 
slices,  and  warmed  up  with  a  white  sauce  in  shells,  like 
scalloped  oysters.  Add  a  little  cheese  and  breadcrumbs, 
and  brown  in  the  oven. 

No  one  who  cares  for  vegetables  and  has  a  garden 
should  fail  to  refer  constantly  to  '  The  Vegetable  Garden,' 
already  mentioned.  It  is  an  invaluable  book,  and  the 
number  and  variety  of  the  vegetables  it  describes  is  a 


14  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

revelation  to  those  who  have  only  the  ordinary  English 
idea  of  the  vegetables  that  are  worth  growing. 

Celeriac  is  an  excellent  vegetable,  not  very  common  in 
England,  and,  when  carefully  cooked,  with  a  good  brown 
sauce,  forms  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  winter  supply. 
One  of  the  constant  difficulties  in  the  management  of  a 
house,  whether  large  or  small,  where  the  vegetables  are 
grown  and  not  bought,  is  that  the  gardener  brings  them  in, 
and  the  cook  throws  them  away  into  a  corner  of  the  scullery 
or  into  the  pig-tub.  Only  last  summer  a  gardener  from  a 
large  place  in  the  neighbourhood  said  to  me  while  walking 
round  my  small  garden  :  '  What !  you  grow  Cardoons  ? 
I  took  in  beautiful  ones  last  year,  but  they  were  never 
used;  the  cook  said  she  didn't  know  how  to  cook  them.' 
The  following  is  a  good  receipt : — The  length  of  time 
Cardoons  require  in  cooking  depends  on  age  and  size,  and 
varies  from  half  an  hour  to  three  or  four  hours.  Scrape 
the  stalks,  and  pull  off  all  that  is  thready  outside.  Cut 
them  into  bits  about  four  or  five  inches  long,  or  longer  if 
served  in  a  long  narrow  dish  with  marrow  on  toast  at  each 
end.  As  you  cut  them,  throw  them  into  a  basin  full  of 
water,  into  which  you  put  a  little  flour  to  keep  them  a 
good  colour.  When  all  are  prepared,  have  ready  a  large 
crockery  stewpan  with  boiling  water,  herbs,  a  little  salt 
and  pepper,  and  a  good-sized  piece  of  raw  bacon.  The 
rind  of  the  bacon  should  be  cut  in  little  bits,  but  not  so 
small  as  to  get  mixed  with  the  Cardoons.  Boil  the  whole 
slowly,  and  prepare  a  brown  sauce  apart  with  well- 
flavoured  stock.  Thicken  this  with  flour  (burnt  to  a  light- 
coffee  colour),  butter,  and  a  little  sherry.  Let  it  simmer 
for  two  hours,  skimming  it  well.  Strain  it  half  an  hour 
before  serving. 

The  American  Cranberries,  so  generally  and  so  cheaply 
sold  in  London,  are  very  pretty  and  very  nice  if  well  stewed 
in  a  crockery  saucepan  with  water  and  sugar ;  a  small 


JANUARY  15 

pinch  of  powdered  ginger  brings  out  their  flavour.  They 
are  always  eaten  in  America  with  turkeys,  as  we  eat 
apple-sauce  with  goose.  Many  people  do  not  know  that 
turkeys  are  natives  of  America,  and  that  the  French 
word  dinde  is  merely  a  shortening  of  coq  d'Inde  (India 
being  the  name  given  to  America  for  some  time  after  its 
discovery).  It  is  curious  to  think  that  these  birds,  now 
so  common  an  article  of  food  at  this  time  of  year,  were 
totally  unknown  to  the  luxurious  Eomans.  The  Cran- 
berries should  not  be  mashed  up,  but  should  look  like 
stoned  cherries  in  syrup.  They  can  be  eaten  with  chicken 
or  game,  or  with  roast  mutton  instead  of  red-currant 
jelly.  In  Norway  the  small  native  Cranberry  is  eaten 
with  any  stew,  especially  with  hares  and  ptarmigan. 
The  custom  of  eating  sweets  with  meat  seems  to  come 
to  us  from  Germany  and  the  North ;  the  French  hate  it. 
One  of  the  eternal  trials  to  every  housekeeper  is  the 
making  of  coffee.  I  always  use  half  Mocha  and  half 
Plantation.  When  in  the  country,  I  roast  the  beans 
at  home ;  and  the  two  kinds  must  be  done  separately, 
as  they  are  not  the  same  size.  For  breakfast  coffee  a 
small  quantity  of  ground  Chicory — the  best  French — is 
a  great  improvement,  and  increases  the  health-giving 
properties  of  coffee  and  milk  ;  but  it  should  never  be  used 
for  black  coffee.  The  beans  should  in  damp  weather  be 
warmed  and  dried  a  little  before  grinding;  it  freshens 
them  up,  as  it  does  biscuits.  One  of  the  mysterious 
reasons  for  the  flat  tastelessness  of  coffee  one  day  and  not 
another  is  the  coffee-grinder  not  being  cleaned  out ;  a 
tablespoonful  of  stale  ground  coffee  will  spoil  the 
whole.  Other  reasons  are — either  the  water  not  boil- 
ing, or  the  water  having  boiled  a  long  time,  or  water 
that  has  boiled  and  cooled  being  warmed  up  again ;  this 
is  fatal,  as  it  is  with  tea.  I  find  the  modern  crockery 
percolators  a  great  improvement  on  the  old  tin  ones, 


1 6  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

which  make  very  good  coffee  for  a  short  time ;  but  the 
lining  rubs  off,  and  the  tin  gets  black  inside,  which  will 
destroy  the  colour  of  the  best  coffee.  At  Goode's,  in 
Audley  Street,  or  at  the  Atmospheric  Churn  Company,  in 
Bond  Street,  they  will  sell  you  any  portion  of  these 
percolators  apart ;  and  the  most  terrible  of  breakers  can 
hardly  smash  everything  at  once.  Many  cooks  refuse  to 
use  Goode's  excellent  crockery  fireproof  stewpans,  on 
the  plea  that  they  break.  But  new  ones  cost  no  more 
than  the  re-tinning  of  copper  stewpans,  which  has  to  be 
done  every  year.  For  all  stews,  and  for  the  cooking  of 
vegetables  and  fruit,  they  are  invaluable — and,  in  the 
case  of  fruit,  indispensable. 

January  ISth. — One  excellent  way  of  arranging 
flowers  in  most  rooms  is  to  have  a  table,  a  kind  of  altar, 
especially  dedicated  to  them.  This  does  the  flowers  or 
plants  much  more  justice  than  dotting  them  about  the 
room.  If,  however,  flowers  or  branches  are  arranged  in 
vases  in  the  Japanese  style,  the  more  they  are  isolated  in 
prominent  places  that  show  them  off,  the  better. 

I  am  now  staying  with  a  friend  who  has  no  stove, 
only  one  greenhouse ;  and  her  flower-table,  standing  in  the 
window,  looks  charming.  At  the  back  are  two  tall  glass 
vases  with  Pampas  grass  in  them,  feathery  and  white, 
as  we  never  can  keep  it  in  London  ;  a  small  Eucalyptus - 
tree  in  a  pot,  cut  back  in  summer  and  well  shaped ;  a 
fine  pot  of  Arums,  just  coming  into  flower ;  a  small  fern 
in  front,  and  a  bunch  of  paper-white  Narcissus.  These 
last,  I  fear,  must  have  been  grown  elsewhere,  as  they 
could  not  be  so  early  here  without  heat  and  very  careful 
growing-on. 

January  %Qth. — I  came  from  London,  to  pass  two 
or  three  days  in  the  country  and  look  after  my  garden, 
as  usual.  I  make  lists  and  decide  on  the  seeds  for 
the  year,  and  look  to  the  mulching  of  certain  plants. 


JANUARY  17 

Hardly  anything  grows  here  to  perfection  when  left 
alone.  Most  plants  require  either  chalk,  peat,  leaf- 
mould  or  cow-manure,  and  half-tender  things  are  now 
the  better  for  covering  up  with  matting  or  Bracken-fern. 
It  is  seldom  of  any  use  to  come  so  early  as  this  ;  but 
there  has  been  no  cold  this  year,  though  one  feels 
it  must  come.  Oh  !  such  days  and  days  of  gloom  and 
darkness ;  but  to-day  the  wind  freshened  from  the  north- 
east, and  I  could  breathe  once  more.  How  delightful 
it  is  to  be  out  of  London  again  !  There  is  always  plenty 
to  do  and  to  enjoy.  How  the  birds  sing,  as  if  it  were 
spring  1  I  love  the  country  in  winter ;  one  expects  nothing, 
and  everything  is  a  joy  and  a  surprise.  The  Freesias  are 
flowering  well ;  they  improve  each  year  as  the  bulbs  get 
larger.  Cyclamens  are  in  the  greenhouse,  and  a  large, 
never-failing,  old  white  Azalea,  which  forces  faithfully  and 
uncomplainingly  every  year,  and  from  which  we  cut  so 
many  blooms. 

The  first  Aconite  !  Does  any  flower  in  summer  give  the 
same  pleasure  ?  The  blue-green  blades  of  the  Daffodils 
and  Jonquils  are  firmly  and  strongly  pushing  through 
the  cold  brown  earth ;  nothing  in  all  the  year  gives  such  a 
sense  of  power  and  joy.  One  is  grateful,  too,  for  our 
Surrey  soil  and  climate — to  live  where  it  never  can  rain 
too  much,  and  where  it  never  accords  with  Shelley's 
wonderful  description  of  damp  ; — 

And  hour  by  hour,  when  the  air  was  still, 
The  vapours  arose  which  have  strength  to  kill. 
At  morn  they  were  seen,  at  noon  they  were  felt, 
At  night  they  were  darkness  no  star  could  melt. 

These  mild  winters  have  a  wonderful  effect  on  plant 
life.  The  Solanum  jasminoides  looks  as  fresh  as  in 
November,  and  as  if  he  meant  to  stand  it  out ;  we  shall 
see.  In  front  of  my  window,  on  the  ground  floor,  I  have 

c 


1 8  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

been  rigging  up  a  delightful  arrangement  for  feeding  Tom- 
tits. I  hang  half  a  pound  of  suet  and  a  cocoanut  on  either 
end  of  a  piece  of  thick  string.  This  should  be  long 
enough  to  reach  the  lower  window  when  suspended  from 
a  small  iron  rod  by  a  ring  hanging  at  the  end  of  it,  the 
rod  being  nailed  to  the  window-sill  above.  The  string  is 
passed  through  the  top  of  the  cocoanut,  of  which  the 
bottom  is  cut  off,  making  a  hole  large  enough  for  a  bird 
to  get  in.  It  greatly  adds  to  the  artistic  effect  to  hang 
the  cocoanut  about  a  foot  lower  than  the  suet,  or  vice 
versd.  The  small  birds  cling  to  the  string  while  they 
peck  their  food,  and  so  make  a  continual  and  beautiful 
design.  To  help  them  to  cling,  a  few  little  crossbars  of 
wood  are  knotted  into  the  string  and  form  a  sort  of  rough 
ladder.  In  really  cold  weather,  or  with  snow  on  the 
ground,  they  become  wonderfully  tame.  Another  way  is 
to  plant  a  post  in  the  ground  with  one  or  two  cross-bars 
nailed  to  the  top,  on  which  are  hung  similar  arrangements 
to  those  just  described  of  cocoanut  and  suet,  or  an  old 
bone. 

This  warm  winter  has  suited  the  Christmas  Eoses,  which 
are  uncommonly  good.  The  great  secret  in  light  soils  is 
to  mulch  them  well  while  they  are  making  their  leaves. 
Water  them  with  liquid  manure  when  their  flower-buds 
are  forming,  and  protect  them  with  lights  in  the  flowering 
season,  especially  keeping  them  from  heavy  rains  or 
snow.  For  these  reasons  grow  them  in  a  bed  by  them- 
selves. In  the  greenhouse  I  found  a  Choisya  ternata, 
which  I  had  cut  back  hard  last  May,  covered  all  over 
with  its  beautiful  white  flowers.  It  had  been  forced  in 
the  stove  for  about  ten  days.  This  is  a  most  delightful 
plant  in  every  way,  easy  to  strike  and  to  layer,  quite 
hardy ;  though,  when  growing  outside,  the  flowers  are 
sometimes  a  little  injured  by  hard  late  frosts.  It  is  invalu- 
able for  cutting  to  send  to  London  at  all  times  of  year,  as 


JANUARY  19 

it  lasts  for  a  long  time  in  water,  and  the  shiny  dark-green 
leaves  look  especially  well  with  any  white  flowers.  The 
more  it  is  cut,  the  better  the  plant  flourishes.  Every 
spare  piece  of  wall  should  have  a  plant  of  Choisya  against 
it.  It  is  restrained  and  yet  free  in  its  growth,  and  is 
therefore  even  more  useful  in  small  gardens  than  in  large 
ones.  It  does  very  well  in  light  soil,  but  responds  to  a 
little  feeding.  I  have  some  giant  Violets  which  I  got 
from  the  South  of  France  ;  here,  I  believe,  they  are  called 
1  Princess  Beatrice.'  They  are  twice  the  size  of  Czars, 
and  very  sweet.  They  are  doing  well  in  the  frame,  but 
look  rather  draggled  and  miserable  outside ;  after  all,  it  is 
only  the  end  of  January. 

In  mid- winter  my  heart  warms  to  the  common  Laurels. 
In  wet  winters,  especially,  they  look  so  flourishing  and 
happy,  and  they  will  grow  in  such  bad  places.  I  am  sure 
I  shall  abuse  them  so  often  that  I  must  say,  however 
much  they  are  reduced  in  a  garden,  keep  some  plants 
in  places  where  few  other  things  would  flourish.  They 
will  always  remain  a  typical  example  of  Mme.  de  Stael's 
good  description  of  evergreens : — '  Le  deuil  de  I'6t6 
et  1'ornement  de  1'hiver.'  All  hardy  fruit-trees,  like 
Jasminum  nudiflorum  and  Chimonanthus  fragrans,  are 
better  pruned  in  January  than  in  February,  if  the  weather 
make  it  possible. 

January  fflnd. — I  take  back  to  London  with  me  to- 
day, amongst  other  things,  some  Lachenalia  aurea.  All 
Lachenalias  are  worth  growing.  They  are  little  Cape 
bulbs,  which  have  to  be  treated  like  the  Freezias,  watered 
as  long  as  the  leaves  are  green,  and  then  dried.  They 
all  force  well,  and  L.  aurea  flowers  earlier  than  the  other 
Lachenalias,  and  is  very  pretty  and  effective.  This 
variety  has  the  great  merit  of  being  a  true  yellow  by 
candle-light. 

Walking  along  the  streets  to-day,  I  stopped  to  look  at 

c2 


20     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

a  really  beautiful  large  cross,  entirely  composed  of  moss 
dotted  all  over  with  the  lovely  little  early  single  Snow- 
drops. Although  I  have  the  strongest  objection  to  the 
modern  use  of  flowers  for  the  dead,  natural  and  lovable 
as  was  the  original  idea,  I  had  to  admire  this  specimen. 
Gould  a  more  beautiful  winter  memorial  for  a  young  girl 
be  seen,  or  one  which  better  carries  out  in  these  cold 
days  the  idea  of  the  French  poet  Malherbe  ? 

Elle  6tait  du  monde  ou  les  plus  belles  choses 

Ont  le  pire  destin  ; 
Et  rose,  elle  a  vecu  ce  que  vivent  les  roses — 

L'espace  d'un  matin. 

The  French  have  carried  the  abuse  of  this  fashion  of 
funeral  wreaths  and  crosses  to  an  even  greater  extent  than 
we  have  here.  I  shall  never  forget  once  in  Paris  going 
up  to  the  Pere-Lachaise  cemetery  on  a  fine  morning  to 
visit  the  grave  of  a  young  and  much-lamented  woman. 
The  wreaths  were  so  numerous  that  they  had  to  be  taken 
up  in  a  cart  the  day  before.  The  night  had  been  wet,  and 
the  surroundings  of  the  grave  were  a  mass  of  unapproach- 
able corruption  and  decay. 

Last  April,  when  I  was  at  Kew,  the  gardener  there 
shook  into  my  pocket-handkerchief  a  little  seed  of 
Cineraria  cruenta,  the  type-plant  from  the  Cape,  and  the 
origin  of  all  the  Cinerarias  of  our  greenhouses.  It  has  a 
very  different  and  much  taller  growth  than  the  cultivated 
ones,  and  I  am  most  anxious  to  see  if  it  will  do  in  water, 
which  the  ordinary  ones  do  not.  It  varies  in  shade  from 
pale  to  deep  lilac,  rather  like  a  Michaelmas  Daisy.  Get- 
ting seeds  from  abroad  of  type-plants  is  very  interesting 
gardening.  Pelargoniums  of  all  kinds  are  weeds  at  the 
Cape,  and,  in  order  to  be  able  to  resist  the  long  droughts, 
they  have,  in  South  Africa,  tuberous  roots  like  Dahlias. 
This  is  well  seen  in  Andrews'  'Botanist's  Bepository,' 


JANUARY  21 

which  I  shall  mention  among  the  March  books.  Pelar- 
goniums, under  cultivation  and  with  much  watering,  no 
longer  require  these  tubers,  and  they  disappear.  Seed 
was  sent  to  me  from  some  of  the  wild  plants  at  the  Cape, 
and  even  the  first  year,  as  the  plants  grew,  there  were 
the  little  tubers,  quite  marked  and  distinct. 

January  31s t. — With  the  high  temperature  we  have 
had  this  year,  one  is  apt  to  forget  the  horrors  of  a  severe 
winter,  till  reminded  just  lately  by  two  very  cold  nights. 
The  frosted  windows  of  my  bedroom  made  me  think  of  a 
charming  little  poem  which  appeared  last  year  in  the 
Pall  Mall  Gazette  at  the  time  of  the  very  cold  weather  :- 


JOHN  FROST 

The  door  was  shut,  as  doors  should  be, 
Before  you  went  to  bed  last  night, 

Yet  John  Frost  has  got  in,  you  see, 
And  left  your  windows  silver  white. 

He  must  have  waited  till  you  slept, 

And  not  a  single  word  he  spoke, 
But  pencill'd  o'er  the  panes  and  crept 

Away  again  before  you  woke. 

And  now  you  cannot  see  the  trees 

Nor  fields  that  stretch  beyond  the  lane  ; 

But  there  are  fairer  things  than  these 
His  fingers  traced  on  every  pane. 

Kocks  and  castles  towering  high, 

Hills  and  dales,  and  streams  and  fields, 

And  knights  in  armour  riding  by 

With  plumes  and  spears  and  shining  shields. 

And  here  are  little  boats,  and  there 
Big  ships  with  sails  spread  to  the  breeze ; 

And  yonder  palm-trees,  waving  fair 
On  islands  set  in  silver  seas 


22     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

And  butterflies  with  gauzy  wings, 

And  birds  and  bees,  and  cows  and  sheep, 

And  fruit  and  flowers,  and  all  the  things 
You  see  when  you  are  sound  asleep. 

For,  creeping  softly  underneath 

The  door  when  all  the  lights  are  out, 
John  Frost  takes  every  breath  you  breathe, 

And  knows  the  things  you  think  about. 

He  paints  them  on  the  window-pane, 

In  fairy  lines,  with  frozen  steam ; 
And  when  you  wake,  you  see  again 

The  wondrous  things  you  saw  in  dream. 

Londoners  have  the  great  advantage,  in  hard  frosts, 
of  being  able  to  enjoy  these  frozen  pictures,  for  nowhere 
can  they  be  seen  to  such  perfection  as  on  the  large 
window-panes  of  cold  empty  shops.  Many  people  must 
have  remarked  this  last  winter. 


FEBEUAEY 

Forced  bulbs— The  exhibitions  of  the  Eoyal  Horticultural  Society — 
Early  spring  salads  and  vegetables — Ehubarb  tarts — Orange 
marmalade — Receipts  by  a  French  chef. 

February  8th. — This  is  essentially  the  month  of  forced 
bulbs — Hyacinths,  Tulips,  Jonquils,  Narcissuses — charm- 
ing things  in  themselves,  and  within  easy  reach  of  everyone 
who  can  afford  to  buy  them  either  as  bulbs  in  the  autumn 
or  as  cut  flowers  from  the  shops  in  spring.  Bulbs  do  not 
even  require  a  greenhouse,  as  they  can  be  grown  in  a 
cellar  and  then  in  a  frame,  or,  with  care,  quite  as  success- 
fully in  a  room  with  a  south  window.  They  depend  on 
attention,  and  the  result  is  so  certain  that  they  are  not 
very  interesting  to  the  gardener,  nor  do  they  represent 
any  variety  of  greenhouse  culture.  All  the  spring  bulbs 
are  cultivated  in  much  the  same  way.  Any  of  the  old 
garden  books  published  between  1840  and  1850, 
especially  Mrs.  London's  '  Gardening  for  Ladies,'  give 
detailed  instructions  on  the  growing  of  bulbs  in  pots  and 
glasses,  and  in  all  other  ways. 

One  of  my  great  pleasures  in  London  in  the  early 
spring  is  going  to  the  exhibition  of  the  Royal  Horticultural 
Society,  at  the  Drill  Hall,  Westminster.  I  think  all 
amateurs  who  are  keen  gardeners  ought  to  belong  to  this 
society — partly  as  an  encouragement  to  it,  and  also 
because  the  subscriber  of  even  one  guinea  a  year  gets  a 
great  many  advantages.  He  can  go  to  these  fortnightly 


24     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

exhibitions,  as  well  as  to  the  great  show  at  the  Temple 
Gardens  in  May,  free,  before  the  public  is  admitted.  He 
has  the  run  of  the  society's  library  in  Victoria  Street; 
he  receives  free  the  yearly  publications,  which  are  a  series 
of  most  interesting  lectures  (I  will  give  some  account  of 
them  at  the  end  of  the  year) ;  and  he  is  annually  presented 
with  a  certain  number  of  plants.  These  fortnightly 
meetings  at  the  Drill  Hall  are  instructive  and  varied, 
though  they  might  be  much  more  so.  Nevertheless,  I 
think  an  amateur  cannot  go  to  them  without  learning 
something,  and  I  am  surprised  to  find  how  few  people  take 
advantage  of  them.  The  entrance  fee  is  only  a  shilling. 
I  went  to  one  of  these  exhibitions  the  other  day.  The 
great  mass  of  blooms  shown  consisted  of  beautifully  grown 
potfuls  of  Cyclamens  in  great  variety  of  colour,  and  of 
Chinese  Primulas  ;  these  last,  to  my  mind,  are  rather 
uninteresting  plants,  but  they  show  great  improvement 
in  colour  as  now  cultivated.  What  pleased  me  most 
were  miniature  Irises,  grown  in  flat  pans,  and  some 
charming  spring  Snowflakes  (Leucojum  vernum)  grown  in 
pots.  These  are  far  more  satisfactory  grown  in  this  way 
than  are  the  finest  Snowdrops  in  pots,  their  foliage  being 
so  much  prettier.  The  little  blue  Scillas  are  extremely 
effective  grown  in  pans  through  a  carpet  of  the  ordinary 
mossy  Saxifrage. 

February  14£fo. — Salads  are  rather  a  difficulty  during 
the  early  spring  in  English  gardens.  In  seasonless 
London  everything  is  always  to  be  bought.  I  wonder 
why  Mdche  (Corn  Salad,  or  Lamb's  Lettuce),  so  much 
grown  in  France,  is  so  little  cultivated  here?  People 
fairly  well  up  in  gardening  come  back  from  France  in  the 
winter,  thinking  they  have  discovered  something  new. 
Mdche  is  a  little  difficult  to  grow  in  very  light  soils,  and 
the  safest  plan  is  to  make  several  sowings  in  July  and 
August.  We  find  it  most  useful,  but,  without  constant 


FEBRUARY  25 

reminding,  no  English  gardener  thinks  of  it  at  all,  though 
it  is  in  all  the  seed  catalogues.  As  it  is  an  annual,  with- 
out sowing  you  naturally  don't  get  it ;  and  if  sown  too  late, 
it  is  bound  to  fail.  In  very  dry  weather  we  have  to  water 
it  at  first. 

If  Beetroot  is  carelessly  dug  up  and  the  roots  broken, 
they  bleed,  which  causes  them  to  come  to  the  table  pale 
and  tasteless.  This  is  the  fault  of  the  gardener,  not  of  the 
cook.  Some  English  cooks  boil  them  in  vinegar ;  this 
hardens  them,  and  makes  them  unwholesome.  They  are 
much  better  slowly  baked  in  an  oven,  and  not  boiled  at  all. 
The  poor  Beetroot  is  often  considered  unwholesome,  but 
if  it  is  served  with  a  little  of  the  water  it  is  boiled  in,  or  if 
baked  with  a  little  warm  water  poured  over  it,  a  squeeze 
of  lemon  instead  of  vinegar,  and  a  little  oil  added,  I  think 
the  accusation  is  unjust.  Beetroot  served  hot  and  cut  in 
slices,  with  a  white  Bechamel  sauce  (see '  Dainty  Dishes  '), 
makes  a  very  good  winter  vegetable.  The  Old  English 
dish  of  Beetroot  sliced  and  laid  round  a  soup-plate  with 
pulled  Celery,  mixed  with  a  Mayonnaise  sauce,  built  up  in 
the  middle,  is  excellent  with  all  roast  meats.  At  all  the 
best  Italian  grocers'  in  London  they  sell  a  dried  Green 
Pea  from  Italy,  which  makes  a  pretty  pur6e  both  as  a 
vegetable  and  as  a  soup  in  winter,  especially  if  coloured 
with  a  very  little  fresh  Spinach,  not  the  colouring  sold  by 
grocers.  The  Peas  must  be  soaked  all  night,  then  well 
boiled,  rubbed  smooth  through  a  sieve,  and  a  little  cream 
and  butter  added.  A  nicer  winter  vegetable  cannot  be. 
It  is  really  made  exactly  like  the  old  pease-pudding  served 
with  pork,  only  not  nearly  so  dry. 

Imantophilums  are  one  of  the  most  effective  and 
beautiful  of  our  greenhouse  plants  at  this  time  of  the  year, 
and  last  very  well  in  water.  We  kept  ours  out  of  doors 
in  an  open  pit  all  through  last  summer.  As  they  threw 
up  several  flower- spikes,  which  we  picked  off,  we  feared 


26  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

that  they  might  not  do  so  well  this  spring ;  instead  of 
which,  I  think  they  have  never  done  better  or  flowered 
more  freely.  A  little  liquid  manure  helps  them  when 
in  flower.  Though  a  Cape  plant,  the  leaves  do  not  die 
down ;  and  so  it  must  be  kept  growing,  or  the  foliage  is 
injured. 

February  %7th. — I  have  lately  evolved  a  good  spring 
vegetable  dish.  The  common  green  Turnip-tops,  which 
are  wholesome,  but  not  palatable  if  plainly  boiled,  are 
delicious  when  treated  like  the  French  puree  of  Spinach 
(see  '  Dainty  Dishes  '),  rubbed  through  a  sieve,  and  mixed 
with  butter  and  cream.  They  are  a  beautiful  bright 
green.  In  the  country  young  Nettles  done  in  the  same 
way  are  very  good,  but  they  must  be  fresh— a  state  in 
which  they  are  not  to  be  had  in  large  towns.  I  have  been 
told  how  curious  it  is  that  nettles  never  grow  in  absolutely 
wild  places,  but  are  only  to  be  found  in  localities  more  or 
less  haunted  by  man. 

I  think  Rhubarb,  which  is  so  largely  grown  and 
eaten  in  England,  both  forced  and  out  of  doors,  is  never 
used  on  the  Continent.  I  wonder  if  this  is  because  it 
does  not  stand  the  severe  frosts  of  the  mid-Europe 
winters.  We  dig  up  plants  and  put  them  into  boxes,  and 
force  them  under  the  frames  of  our  greenhouse.  For 
later  eating,  we  also  cover  it  in  the  garden,  as  everybody 
does,  with  pots  surrounded  by  leaves.  I  do  not  think 
that  the  ordinary  English  tart  is  the  best  way  of  cooking 
Ehubarb,  unless  done  in  the  following  manner  : — When 
young  and  tender,  cut  it  up  into  pieces  the  length  of  a 
finger,  and  throw  them  into  cold  water,  to  prevent  the  ends 
drying,  while  a  syrup  is  prepared  in  an  earthenware  sauce- 
pan with  sugar,  a  few  of  the  rough  pieces  of  the  Rhubarb, 
and  a  small  pinch  of  ginger.  Throw  the  cold  water  away 
from  the  Rhubarb,  strain  the  syrup,  boil  it  up,  and  pour  it 
over  the  pieces.  Stew  it  for  a  very  short  time  till  tender 


FEBRUARY  27 

without  mashing  it  up.  It  looks  better  if  the  pieces  are 
slightly  arranged  in  the  dish.  If  anything  iron  touches 
the  Ehubarb  or  the  syrup,  they  turn  purple  and  look 
horrid.  Properly  cooked,  Ehubarb  should  be  of  a  pretty 
pink  or  green  colour.  Many  doctors  forbid  it.  I  think  it 
probably  may  be  unwholesome  for  meat-eating  people ; 
this  is  the  case  with  so  many  fruits  and  vegetables. 

All  my  tarts  throughout  the  year  are  made  with  the 
crust  baked  apart,  and  the  fruit,  stewed  previously,  juicy 
and  cold.  Shortly  before  dinner  make  the  paste  called 
in  '  Dainty  Dishes  '  '  crisp  paste '  for  tarts  ;  crumple  up 
kitchen  paper  into  a  mound  the  height  you  wish  your 
crust  to  be,  place  it  in  the  pie-dish — the  round-shaped 
dishes  are  the  prettiest — cover  this  with  a  clean  sheet  of 
buttered  paper,  lay  your  paste  over  this,  bake  in  the  usual 
way.  When  done,  lift  off  the  crust,  take  out  the  paper, 
pour  in  the  fruit  (which  can  be  iced,  if  desired),  put  a 
little  raw  white  of  egg  round  the  rim  of  the  pie-dish,  and 
replace  the  crust.  In  this  way  an  orange  or  a  strawberry 
tart  can  be  made  without  cooking  the  fruit  at  all,  except 
in  the  usual  compote  way  of  pouring  boiling  syrup  over  it. 

Towards  the  end  of  February  is  the  best  time  for 
making  Orange  Marmalade  (see  '  Dainty  Dishes '),  as  the 
Seville  oranges  in  London  are  then  at  their  best.  In  all 
cases  when  old  jam  pots,  glasses,  &c.,  are  used  for  pre- 
serving, it  is  very  desirable  to  wash  them  thoroughly  in 
clean  water,  avoiding  all  soda  or  soap,  and,  when  dry, 
powder  them  with  a  little  sulphur  and  wipe  clean.  If 
soda  is  used  in  anything  connected  with  fruit,  it  has  an 
injurious  chemical  action. 

The  following  are  the  translations  of  a  few  careful 
receipts  which  we^e  written  out  by  a  very  excellent  French 
chef.  They  belong  to  so  entirely  different  a  cuisine  from 
our  ordinary  modest  and  economical  receipts,  that  I  think 
they  may  be  not  without  interest  to  some  people.  It  is 


28  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

worth  noting  how,  when  a  really  good  French  cook  wishes 
to  instruct,  he  is  careful  to  go  into  the  minutest  details. 

Pot  au  feu  Soup. — Proportions  :  15  Ibs.  of  beef, 
5Jlbs.  of  veal,  1  chicken,  2|  gallons  of  water,  3  fineicarrots, 
1  big  turnip,  1  large  onion,  a  bunch  of  parsley,  half  a  head 
of  celery,  a  parsnip,  2  cloves,  and  some  salt. 

Remove  the  fat  and  tie  up  the  beef  and  the  veal,  putting 
them  in  a  large  saucepan ;  fill  the  saucepan  with  cold 
water  to  within  a  little  more  than  an  inch  from  the 
brim,  place  the  saucepan  on  the  fire  with  the  lid  off, 
add  some  salt,  and  let  it  boil  till  the  scum  shows  on  the 
surface  ;  remove  it  with  a  skimmer.  As  soon  as  it  seems 
inclined  to  boil  over,  add  a  few  spoonfuls  of  cold  water,  so 
as  to  make  the  scum  accumulate  as  much  as  possible. 
When  at  last  it  boils  violently,  drop  in  the  vegetables  ; 
remove  the  saucepan  to  one  side  of  the  fire,  so  that  it 
shall  boil  only  on  one  side ;  put  on  the  lid,  and  let  it  boil 
undisturbed,  evenly  and  regularly.  After  two  hours 
remove  the  veal.  An  hour  later  add  the  chicken,  and, 
three  hours  after,  strain  the  soup,  without  stirring  it  up, 
through  a  strainer  on  to  a  napkin  stretched  over  a 
receptacle  large  enough  to  contain  the  soup.  The  soup 
may  be  skimmed  before  or  after  straining. 

This  stock  does  for  making  any  kind  of  soup,  Julienne, 
Brunoise,  Croute  au  pot,  and  for  all  purees  of  vegetables. 

Consomme*.— Consomme  means  the  foundation  of  the 
soup ;  this  foundation  ought  always  to  be  clear,  lightly 
coloured,  and,  above  all,  strong. 

Take  about  2  Ibs.  of  beef  and  veal,  without  fat,  chop 
them  up  together,  and  put  into  a  basin.  Add  half  of  the 
white  of  an  egg,  work  the  meats  with  a  wooden  spoon  and 
a  glass  of  water,  continue  to  mix  with  about  1J  gallon  of 
good  strong  stock ;  put  the  whole  into  a  small  saucepan 
with  some  carcases  of  birds  (raw  or  cooked),  a  branch  of 
celery,  and  put  it  to  boil  on  the  fire ;  stir  it  when  there 


FEBRUARY  29 

with  a  wooden  spoon,  so  that  the  meat  shall  not  stick  to 
the  bottom.  As  soon  as  it  bubbles,  remove  the  saucepan 
to  a  very  slow,  very  moderate,  well-regulated  fire  for  two 
hours.  The  stock,  made  in  this  way,  ought  to  become 
a  fine  colour,  and  above  all  be  very  clear.  Strain  it 
through  a  napkin  that  has  been  previously  rinsed  in  hot 
water. 

Julienne  Soup.— Ingredients :  3  fine  carrots,  2  tur- 
nips, 2  small  pieces  of  celery,  2  sprigs  of  parsley,  1  onion, 
the  quarter  of  a  large  Savoy  cabbage,  the  hearts  of 
2  lettuces,  a  bunch  of  sorrel,  and  a  sprig  of  chervil. 

Scrape  each  of  the  vegetables  according  to  its  require- 
ments. The  carrots  are  cut,  in  the  thickest  parts  of  them, 
in  transverse  sections,  about  two-thirds  of  an  inch  thick ; 
shape  these  into  thin,  even  ribbons  by  turning  the  piece 
round  and  round  till  you  reach  the  centre  of  the  carrot, 
which  is  not  used ;  then  cut  these  ribbons  again  into  very 
fine  shreds.  Cut  the  turnips  into  squares ;  divide  them 
into  oblong  squares  about  two-thirds  of  an  inch  thick ;  cut 
and  make  them  into  shreds  like  the  carrots.  Cut  and  shape 
the  celery  in  the  same  way.  Remove  the  hard  sides  of 
the  cabbage,  and  slice  it  as  fine  as  possible.  Slice  in  the 
same  way  the  lettuces,  parsley,  and  onions.  The  similarity 
of  the  vegetables,  as  much  with  regard  to  their  thickness 
as  to  their  length,  must  be  strictly  preserved ;  it  is  one  of 
the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  this  soup.  Now  put 
a  lump  of  butter  into  a  good  saucepan,  rather  a  large  one 
and  very  thick  at  the  bottom.  Add  the  vegetables,  all 
except  the  cabbage  and  the  sorrel ;  these  must  be  scalded 
in  boiling  water  apart.  Place  the  other  vegetables  on  a 
slow  fire  till  they  turn  a  fine  yellow  colour  without  being 
burnt ;  that  is  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  soup.  As 
soon  as  they  are  done  to  a  turn,  add  about  2  quarts  of 
good  stock  or  consomme,  and  a  pinch  of  sugar.  When  it 
bubbles,  remove  to  side  of  fire  ;  add  the  sorrel  and  cabbage, 


30  POT-POURRI  FROM. A  SURREY  GARDEN 

after  drying  them,  through  a  strainer  or  sieve.  The  bubbles 
should  only  appear  on  one  side.  Skim,  and,  while  on 
the  fire,  remove  the  grease  as  it  forms.  Let  it  boil  for  an 
hour,  if  the  vegetables  are  tender ;  if  not,  for  longer. 

Consomme*  aux  Ailerons  (Wing-bone  Soup).— Cut 
up  the  whole  of  3  or  4  carrots  and  2  turnips  into  slices  of 
about  the  thickness  of  a  shilling.  Cut  in  rounds  of  the 
same  thickness,  and  shaped  in  the  same  column- shape, 
some  cabbage  leaves — very  white  ones.  This  done,  wet 
the  carrots  first  with  about  2  pints  of  stock  (consomme"). 
After  it  has  boiled  for  an  hour,  add  the  turnips  and 
cabbage.  Let  it  boil  quite  gently  by  the  side  of  the  fire 
for  a  good  hour,  till  the  vegetables  are  quite  cooked. 

Separately  take  12  or  15  wing-bones  of  chickens,  basted 
and  well  trimmed  ;  let  them  soak  during  1  or  2  hours  in 
tepid  water,  drain  and  put  them  into  a  small  saucepan, 
cover  them  with  stock,  and  boil  up.  One  hour  is  enough 
to  cook  them.  Drain  the  wings,  trim  them  very  neatly, 
bone  them,  put  them  in  the  soup-tureen,  add  some  fried 
crusts  of  bread  of  the  same  thickness  as  the  vegetables, 
also  a  bunch  of  chervil  and  a  pinch  of  sugar,  and  put  all 
together  into  the  soup-tureen.  The  boiling  of  all  these 
vegetables  must  be  done  quite  slowly,  so  as  to  prevent  the 
stock  being  disturbed. 

Gnocchi  a  la  Creme. — Make  a  paste  (pate  a  choux) 
as  follows  : — Ingredients :  4J  oz.  of  flour,  4J  oz.  of  butter, 
If  pint  of  water,  3  whole  eggs  (4  if  small),  a  pinch  of 
salt  and  of  sugar.  Put  the  water,  salt,  and  sugar  in  a 
small  saucepan  on  the  fire  ;  when  it  begins  to  boil,  add 
the  flour  all  at  once.  Stir  quickly  with  a  wooden  spoon, 
and,  when  well  mixed,  put  the  saucepan  on  a  slower 
fire ;  let  it  dry  for  a  few  minutes,  and  when  smooth  mix 
in  the  eggs,  one  by  one,  till  smooth  and  thick,  sticking 
to  the  saucepan.  If  the  paste  seems  a  little  too  dry, 
add  a  little  cream — 2  or  3  spoonfuls.  Add  by  degrees 


FEBRUARY  31 

3  or  4  spoonfuls  of  grated  Parmesan  cheese.  Take 
a  smaller  saucepan  of  water  with  some  salt  in  it.  When 
the  water  is  boiling,  remove  it  to  the  edge  of  the  fire. 
Then  take  two  tablespoons,  and  fill  one  with  the  paste, 
flattening  it  with  a  knife  warmed  in  warm  water  so  as  to 
form  the  paste  into  an  oval  shape;  warm  the  other 
spoon,  and  push  it  under  the  quenelle  to  remove  it  from 
the  first  spoon  ;  then  drop  it  into  the  boiling  water.  When 
all  the  quenelles  are  shaped  in  this  way  and  thrown  into 
the  saucepan,  put  it  on  to  the  open  fire,  and  let  the 
quenelles  poach  for  some  minutes.  As  soon  as  they  feel 
firm  to  the  touch,  remove  the  Gnocchi  one  by  one  with 
a  strainer,  and  place  them  on  a  cloth  till  wanted.  Make 
a  Bechamel  white  sauce.  Butter  a  souffl6-dish,  place 
the  quenelles  round  the  bottom,  in  a  single  row  one 
beside  the  other,  sprinkle  this  first  row  with  a  little 
grated  Parmesan,  and  add  on  the  top  another  layer 
of  Gnocchis,  laid  on  alternately  to  the  others.  Hide 
the  Gnocchis  entirely  with  the  sauce  Bechamel,  dust 
them  over  with  a  little  grated  Gruyere,  sprinkle  them 
lightly  with  some  melted  butter,  and  put  them  to  bake 
in  a  slow  oven  till  well  browned  without  being  burnt. 
Given  about  forty  to  forty-five  minutes  of  baking,  the 
Gnocchi  should  swell  to  twice  their  original  size.  Serve 
at  once. 

Bechamel  Sauce. — Cut  into  little  squares  the  half  of 
a  carrot  and  a  small  onion ;  take  a  small  saucepan,  put 
in  a  good  bit  of  butter,  add  the  vegetables,  fry  them 
lightly  without  letting  them  brown.  This  done,  add  a 
good  tablespoonful  of  flour,  and  let  the  flour  cook  quite 
gently  for  several  minutes  on  a  moderate  fire ;  be  es- 
pecially careful  that  it  does  not  stick  or  get  coloured, 
which  would  quite  spoil  its  quality.  This  done,  let  it 
cool  for  a  moment,  then  add  little  by  little  one  pint  and 
a  half  of  boiling  milk ;  work  and  stir  the  sauce  without 


32  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

ceasing  until  it  boils,  remove  to  side  of  a  slow  fire,  and 
let  it  cook  for  an  hour.  Strain  the  sauce  through  a 
flannel  or  muslin  into  a  bain-marie,  with  a  pinch  of  salt, 
and  of  grated  nutmeg  very  little.  Add  a  good  bit  of 
butter  while  working  it  with  a  small  egg-whisk.  The 
sauce  should  be  very  smooth,  creamy,  and  of  a  good 
flavour ;  if  by  chance  it  is  too  thick,  this  can  be  remedied 
by  adding  a  few  spoonfuls  of  good,  thick,  and  sweet 
cream. 

Pate  a  Ravioli. — Ingredients  for  the  paste  :  9  oz.  of 
flour,  the  yelks  of  4  eggs,  a  pinch  of  salt,  a  little  tepid 
water. 

Put  the  flour  on  a  marble  slab,  make  a  hole  in  the 
centre,  add  the  yelks  of  the  eggs  and  the  salt,  make  a 
paste,  not  too  solid ;  when  it  is  quite  even,  let  it  rest  for  an 
hour  or  two,  and  cover  it  with  a  cloth  to  prevent  it  from 
getting  dry. 

Preparation  for  Ravioli. — Forcemeat  of  chicken, 
or,  failing  this,  one  can  use  veal,  if  nice  and  white  and 
tender.  Ingredients  :  4|  oz.  of  meat,  2J  oz.  of  panade, 
J  oz.  of  fresh  butter,  2  yelks  of  eggs,  salt,  and  nutmeg. 

Eemove  the  sinews  and  fat  carefully  from  the  4^  oz. 
of  meat.  Cut  it  into  little  squares,  and  pound  well  in  a 
mortar.  Add  the  panade  little  by  little;  when  mixed, 
add  (only  a  little  at  a  time)  the  butter  when  quite 
cooled  and  solid,  salt,  and  nutmeg  ;  mix  these  ingredients 
thoroughly,  giving  to  them  as  much  consistency  as  pos- 
sible. Now  take  some  boiling  salted  water  in  a  little 
saucepan,  and  test  in  it  a  little  bit  of  the  forcemeat  the 
size  of  a  walnut ;  let  it  poach  while  well  on  the  fire. 
If  it  is  rather  too  firm,  one  can  always  add  a  spoonful 
of  Bechamel  or  a  little  thick  cream  to  moisten  it. 

Parboil  in  water  1  Ib.  of  spinach,  strain  it  on  to  a 
moistened  sieve — the  sieve  must  have  been  well  wiped 
to  ensure  no  water  remaining  in  it.  Pass  the  spinach 


FEBRUARY 


33 


through  a  fine  wire  sieve.  This  done,  add  to  the  force- 
meat two  or  three  dessertspoonfuls  of  spinach,  as  much 
grated  Parmesan  cheese,  some  salt,  pepper,  and  nutmeg, 
and  a  pinch  of  sugar.  Mix  all  these  well  together. 

Now  divide  the  paste  into  two  equal  parts ;  roll  one 
part  out  as  thin  as  possible  with  a  roller,  keeping  it  square 
in  shape  ;  slightly  moisten  the  surface  with  a  brush,  put 
some  of  the  forcemeat  in  a  linen  jelly-bag  with  a  narrow 
tin  socket  at  the  bottom,  and  drop  little  balls  of  the  force- 
meat all  over  the  surface,  in  straight  lines  about  2  in.  to 
2J  in.  apart  from  each  other.  When  the  whole  is  covered, 
roll  out  the  remainder  of  the  paste  to  exactly  the  same 
size  and  shape,  and  place  it  carefully  on  the  top  of  the 
other  so  as  to  fit  exactly ;  press  down  round  each  Eavioli 
with  a  small  shaping-tin,  so  as  to  stick  the  two  layers  of 
paste  together  ;  cut  each  Kavioli  into  rounds,  and  arrange 
them  on  a  small  lid  of  a  saucepan  floured  over  so  that 
the  paste  should  not  stick  to  it. 

Have  ready  a  saute-pan  with  some  boiling  water  and 
salt  in  it.  Five  minutes  before  serving,  drop  the  Eavioli 
into  the  water.  As  soon  as  they  bubble  up,  remove  to 
side  of  fire  to  finish  cooking,  strain  them  onto  a  sieve,  from 
there  into  a  saute-pan  (fairly  large),  powder  them  over 
with  a  little  grated  Parmesan,  throw  on  the  Bechamel 
sauce,  which  should  be  very  smooth  and  not  too  thick ; 
finally,  add  a  good-sized  piece  of  fresh  butter  and  a  chip 
of  Paplika.  Stir  quite  gently,  so  as  not  to  spoil  the 
Ravioli,  and  serve  them  in  a  casserole  or  in  a  crust  of 
pastry. 

Panade  for  the  Forcemeat.— Put  about  a  gill  of 
water  in  a  saucepan,  with  a  bit  of  butter  the  size  of  a 
walnut.  Put  the  saucepan  on  the  fire ;  as  soon  as  it 
boils  up,  add  one  tablespoonful  and  a  half  of  flour  ;  work 
the  mixture  at  the  side  of  the  fire.  This  paste  should  be 
of  a  good,  rather  firm,  consistency.  Put  it  on  to  a  rather 

D 


34  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

flat  dish.  Butter  the  surface  lightly,  to  keep  it  from 
drying,  and  put  it  to  cool. 

Mousse  de  Volaille.— Take  off  the  fillets,  &c.,  of 
three  chickens,  cut  them  up  into  little  dice,  pound  them 
into  a  mortar,  and  reduce  them  to  a  paste ;  this  done, 
pass  them  first  through  a  wire  sieve,  and  afterwards 
through  a  hair  sieve  or  a  quenelle  sieve.  Put  this  meat 
into  a  moderate-sized  basin,  and  stand  it  in  a  cool  place 
till  wanted.  Eemove  the  legs  from  the  carcases  of  the 
chickens  (these  may  be  used  for  something  else),  wash 
the  carcases  in  cold  water,  and  let  them  soak  for  an  hour. 

Now  take  1^  Ib.  of  lean  veal,  mince  it  up  rather  fine, 
put  it  in  a  saucepan  which  will  hold  about  three  quarts 
of  liquid,  add  the  half  of  one  white  of  egg ;  mix  all 
together,  add  two  pints  of  water  and  nearly  a  quart  of 
stock,  one  chopped  onion,  one  carrot,  a  little  celery,  and 
the  carcases  ;  boil  up  on  a  quick  fire,  stirring  from  time 
to  time  with  a  wooden  spoon.  As  soon  as  it  boils,  remove 
to  side  of  fire,  so  that  it  should  only  boil  on  one  side,  and 
quite  slowly,  removing  the  grease  from  time  to  time. 
Let  it  boil  for  three  hours.  Strain  the  foundation  through 
a  well-rinsed  cloth.  The  above  is  the  foundation  for  the 
Sauce  Supreme. 

Sauce  Supreme. — This  sauce  requires  great  care  in 
making.  Put  in  a  saucepan  4J  oz.  of  butter  and  3J  oz.  of 
flour.  Put  the  saucepan  on  a  slow  fire,  and  let  the  flour 
cook  lightly  without  getting  coloured.  As  soon  as  the 
flour  is  cooked,  dilute  it  with  the  foundation  of  chicken, 
little  by  little,  stirring  all  the  time  with  a  wooden  spoon. 
So  as  to  be  able  to  spread  it  out  without  lumps,  keep  it 
much  lighter  than  ordinary  sauces.  Stir  it  all  the  time 
till  it  boils;  when  remove  it  to  side  of  fire,  so  that  it 
should  but  just  boil,  and  that  only  on  one  side.  Add 
two  or  three  raw  chopped  mushrooms  ;  as  the  butter  and 
steam  rise  gently  to  the  surface,  remove  them,  and  let 


FEBRUARY  35 

it  cook  for  a  good  hour.  Afterwards  strain  your  sauce 
through  a  fine  cullender  into  a  frying-pan,  more  wide 
than  deep.  Put  it  on  a  hot  fire,  and  stir  without  stopping 
with  a  wooden  spoon  to  prevent  it  sticking ;  this  is  an 
important  point.  Add  one  or  two  gills  of  good  sweet 
cream.  As  soon  as  the  sauce  sticks  to  the  spoon,  that 
means  it  is  ready.  Strain  it  through  a  muslin  in  a  little 
bain-marie  ;  stand  the  sauce  to  heat  in  a  saucepan  with 
hot  water  in  it. 

Now  put  the  half  of  a  white  of  raw  egg  with  the 
chicken,  mix  them  well  together,  add  little  by  little  some 
good  thick  fresh  cream,  and  make  it  blend  as  much  as 
possible ;  add  three  or  four  spoonfuls  of  cold  Sauce 
Supreme,  and  about  three  gills  of  thick  cream.  Test 
it  by  dropping  a  little  of  the  mixture  into  water.  It 
should  be  soft,  not  too  solid,  and  well-flavoured.  Always 
try  it  before  putting  in  all  the  cream,  or  it  might  become 
too  limp,  which  would  spoil  its  quality. 

Butter  the  inside  of  a  round  cylinder- shaped  mould 
with  a  hole  in  the  centre  of  it.  Put  the  mould  on  the 
ice  for  a  moment  to  harden  the  butter.  Fill  the  mould 
with  the  mixture  up  to  about  an  inch  from  the  rim.  Tap 
the  mould  gently  on  a  napkin  folded  several  times  to 
equalise  the  mixture  and  to  heap  it  together,  to  prevent 
the  holes  which  might  form  themselves  inside  the 
sponge. 

Put  a  little  boiling  water  in  a  saucepan  large  enough 
to  contain  your  mould,  cover  it  with  a  lid,  put  it  in  a 
very  slow  oven,  and  let  it  poach  for  twenty-five  to  thirty 
minutes.  See  that  the  water  in  the  saucepan  does  not 
boil,  for  which  it  is  necessary  from  time  to  time  to  add  a 
drop  of  cold  water.  Turn  out  the  mould  onto  an  entree- 
dish  ;  trim  with  one  or  two  truffles  cooked  in  Madeira. 
Cover  the  mould  lightly  with  a  little  of  the  Sauce 
Supreme,  and  put  the  rest  of  the  sauce  in  a  sauce-boat. 

D2 


36  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Mousse  de  Poles  Gras  &  la  Gel6e. — Take  a  cylinder  - 
shaped  mould  with  an  opening  in  the  centre,  put  the 
mould  for  a  second  or  two  onto  the  ice.  This  done,  pour 
into  it  a  glassful  of  meat  jelly,  cold  without  being  frozen. 
Turn  your  mould  on  the  ice  so  as  to  line  it — that  is  to 
say,  to  make  the  jelly  adhere  to  the  inside  of  the  mould 
in  a  thin  layer.  Eeplace  the  mould  onto  the  ice  till  wanted. 

Put  into  a  saucepan  or  a  bain-marie  well  cleaned  out 
about  three  gills  of  good  cream,  thick  and  sweet,  stand  it 
on  the  ice  for  several  hours ;  when  about  to  use  it,  beat 
it  up  with  an  egg- whisk  for  seven  or  eight  minutes, 
without  taking  it  off  the  ice.  It  should  rise  and  become 
firm,  like  the  white  of  an  egg.  Put  it  to  strain  through  a 
fine  strainer. 

Pound  in  a  mortar  a  cooked  foie-gras  of  from  1  Ib.  3  oz. 
to  1  Ib.  5  oz.  in  weight.  Pass  the  foie-gras  through  a  fine 
hair-sieve.  Pound  with  the  foie-gras  4|  oz.  of  fresh 
butter,  put  it  into  a  basin,  and  work  it  with  an  egg- whisk 
or  wooden  spoon,  and  absorb  into  it  gradually  three  or 
four  spoonfuls  of  Sauce  Supreme,  add  a  wineglassful  of 
rather  firm  meat  jelly.  The  jelly  should  be  tepid  and 
added  quite  gradually,  working  it  in  all  the  time  so  as  to 
make  it  quite  smooth  and  soft.  Season  with  salt,  pepper, 
and  nutmeg.  If  it  is  winter,  work  it  in  a  warm  place  to 
prevent  its  turning,  add  the  whipped  cream  quickly,  and 
fill  up  the  mould  to  the  rim.  Put  the  mould  into  a  good, 
sized  jar,  and  cover  it  well  with  pounded  ice,  and  surround 
the  mould  with  it.  Leave  it  in  the  ice  for  two  hours  or 
more,  according  to  the  season,  and  especially  in  summer. 
When  ready  to  serve,  have  a  basin  filled  with  hot  water, 
dip  the  mould  into  it  so  as  to  be  entirely  covered,  that  it 
may  come  away  clearly  from  the  mould.  Trim  with 
pieces  of  jelly. 

Nouilles  Fraiches  (Fresh  Nouille  Paste).— The  paste 
for  Nouille  is  made  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  for 


FEBRUARY  37 

Eavioli,  only  it  must  be  kept  much  firmer.  Boll  it  out 
very  thin  with  a  roller,  and  flour  it  well,  so  as  not  to  stick. 
Cut  some  strips  about  3  in.  wide,  put  several  of  them 
one  on  the  top  of  the  other,  and  slice  them  with  a  knife 
into  very  narrow  strips,  ^th  of  an  inch  wide  or  less. 
Spread  them  out  onto  a  floured  plate  and  cover  them  with 
a  cloth.  When  ready  to  use  them,  throw  them  into  a 
saucepan  of  boiling  water  with  salt  in  it ;  after  boiling  for 
two  or  three  moments  put  the  saucepan  on  the  side  of 
the  fire,  stirring  a  little.  Let  the  paste  cook  for  some 
minutes,  then  strain  them  well,  put  them  back  in  the 
same  saucepan,  add  a  good  bit  of  fresh  butter  (about  4^  oz. 
to  5  oz.),  three  or  four  spoonfuls  of  grated  Parmesan,  salt, 
nutmeg,  a  pinch  of  sugar,  and  one  of  Paplika,  a  little  veal- 
stock  or  meat  gravy,  mix  all  well  together,  and  serve  in 
a  casserole. 

Cteleris  en  branches,  demi-glae^s. — Pick  and 
peel  very  carefully  six  or  eight  heads  of  celery,  according 
to  their  size.  Bleach  them  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes 
in  boiling  water,  dip  them  in  cold  water  to  cool  them, 
strain  them  onto  a  cloth,  cut  them  in  two  if  they  are 
large,  fasten  them — that  is,  re-form  the  Celery  by  tying 
it  together  with  a  little  string  at  each  end.  Put  them 
into  a  saucepan  with  an  onion,  one  carrot,  and  a  little 
bunch  of  herbs — parsley,  thyme,  bay.  Fill  up  to  the 
brim  with  half  stock  and  half  fat — dripping.  Boil  it  up, 
then  let  it  cook  quite  gently  by  the  si,de  of  a  slow  fire  or 
in  the  oven.  They  ought  to  be  just  done  to  a  turn  after 
three  or  four  hours.  Strain  them  onto  a  cloth,  cut  them 
to  equal  sizes,  remove  the  outside  leaves,  if  they  are  hard, 
serve  in  a  silver  casserole,  and  sauce  them  over  with  a 
good  half-glaze  or  a  good  veal  gravy  a  little  thickened. 

Lettuce  can  be  treated  in  the  same  way. 


38  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


MARCH 

Slow-growing  hardy  shrubs — The  Swanley  Horticultural  College — 
Gardening  as  an  employment  for  women— Aucubas  berries — 
Planting  Asparagus — Brussels  Sprouts— Sowing  annuals— A  list 
of  flowering  creepers — '  The  Poet  in  the  City ' — Old  illustrated 
gardening  books. 

March  2nd. — Of  all  the  low-growing  quite  hardy  shrubs, 
especially  in  small  gardens,  nothing  is  more  useful  for 
picking  and  arranging  with  all  kinds  of  flowers  than  the 
common  Box.  The  kinds  vary  a  little,  some  being  larger- 
leaved  than  others,  and  the  growth  of  some  plants  a  little 
more  graceful  and  branching.  The  most  desirable  kinds 
can  quite  easily  be  propagated  by  cuttings  stuck  into  the 
ground  in  a  shady  place  in  spring.  Its  depressing 
characteristic  for  beginners  is  that  Box  is  very  slow- 
growing.  Next  to  this  in  utility  comes  the  common 
Barberry,  or  Berberis  vulgaris,  as  we  ought  to  call  it, 
which  is  so  well  known  to  everybody  now,  as  it  is  sold  in 
the  streets  of  London  all  through  the  winter  months  with 
its  leaves  dyed  a  dull-red  colour.  How  this  is  managed 
I  do  not  know;  I  think  it  spoils  the  beautiful  foliage  by 
making  it  all  of  one  tone.  With  us  it  turns  brown  in 
severe  winters,  with  an  occasional  red  leaf,  but  in  damp 
soils  it  gets  much  redder.  Berberis  is  one  of  those  things 
much  sown  about  by  the  birds,  for  they  eat  its  pretty 
purple  berries  in  quantities.  The  young  seedlings  which 
come  up  with  us  in  the  beds  and  shrubberies  are  easily 
moved  wrhen  quite  young,  and  can  be  put  where  they  are 


MARCH 


39 


wanted  to  grow.  The  best  time  to  move  them  is  wet 
weather  in  July  or  August.  They  are  plants  with  a 
perfect  growth  and  exceedingly  well  adapted  to  waste 
places  in  gardens  and  the  fronts  of  shrubberies.  Spring 
bulbs  will  grow  through  them,  and  their  yellow  flowers 
and  dark  leaves  arrange  admirably  with  the  common 
Daffodil  in  glass  vases.  They  can  also  take  the  place  of 
the  picked  Arum  leaves,  which  always  droop  before  the 
flowers  when  put  into  water.  Out  of  the  little  stove,  all 
the  winter  through,  I  have  long  branches  of  the  Asparagus 
plumosa.  When  cut,  it  is  much  more  effective  if  trained 
up  a  light  branching  stick  or  feathery  bamboo.  This 
gives  it  support,  and  it  is  astonishing  how  long  it  lasts  in 
water.  It  is  extremely  decorative,  and  will  produce  a 
most  excellent  effect  if  arranged  in  the  above  manner  with 
only  one  bright  flower  added  at  its  base. 

March  8th. — To-day  there  has  come  up  from  the 
country  one  of  the  spring  gems  of  the  year,  a  large  bunch 
of  the  lilac  Daphne,  the  old  Mezereum.  It  is  a  small 
shrub,  not  a  quick  grower,  and  most  people,  especially 
gardeners,  are  afraid  to  cut  it.  But  if  this  is  done  bravely 
at  the  time  of  flowering,  I  think  it  only  grows  stronger 
and  flowers  better  the  following  year,  and  you  get  the 
benefit  of  the  exceedingly  fragrant  blossoms.  For  a  few 
hours  the  whole  of  a  London  house  smells  sweeter  for  its 
presence.  Its  perfume  is  peculiar  and  not  quite  like 
anything  else  I  know.  The  common  lilac  sort  alone 
seems  easy  to  grow — at  least,  the  white  one  I  have  tried 
has  died ;  but  then  one  must  always  say  in  gardening, 
'That  is  probably  my  fault;  I  must  try  again.'  No 
garden,  however  small,  ought  to  be  without  this  plant. 
It  likes  peat  and  moisture,  but  is  not  particular. 

Yesterday  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  Horticultural  College 
at  Swanley,  with  its  branch  for  women  students.  It 
immediately  struck  me  as  quite  possible  that  a  new 


40  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

employment  may  be  developed  for  women  of  small  means 
out  of  the  modern  increased  taste  for  gardening.  In 
many  of  the  suburban  districts  the  dulness  of  the  small 
plots  of  ground  in  front  of  the  houses  is  entirely  owing  to 
the  want  of  education  in  the  neighbouring  nurserymen, 
whose  first  idea  is  always  to  plant  Laurels  or  other  coarse 
shrubs.  The  owners  of  such  villas  have  little  time  to 
attend  to  the  garden  themselves.  A  lady  gardener  might 
easily  undertake  to  lay  out  these  plots  in  endless  variety, 
supplying  them  throughout  the  year  with  flowers  and 
plants  suited  to  the  aspect  of  each  garden.  The  smaller 
the  space,  the  more  necessary  the  knowledge  of  what  is 
likely  to  succeed.  Another  opening  may  be  found  in 
cases  of  larger  villas,  where  single  ladies  might  prefer  a 
woman  head-gardener  with  a  man  under  her  to  do  the 
rougher  and  heavier  work.  The  maintaining  of  a  garden 
and  the  tending  of  a  greenhouse  is  work  particularly 
suited  to  women  of  a  certain  age.  A  small  greenhouse 
never  can  be  productive  of  flowers  for  picking  through 
the  dull  months  without  a  great  deal  of  thought,  care, 
and  knowledge.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  lady  pupils 
at  Swanley  were  too  young  to  profit  by  the  instruction. 
The  parents  who  sent  them  there  evidently  looked  upon 
it  as  an  ordinary  school.  Surely  eighteen  or  twenty  is  a 
better  age  than  sixteen  for  a  woman  to  know  whether 
she  really  wishes  to  learn  gardening  professionally  or  not. 
The  employment  of  women  as  gardeners  is  still  very 
much  in  embryo,  although  two  of  the  Swanley  pupils 
have  been  accepted  at  Kew. 

March  Wth. — The  Aucubas  fruit  well  with  us,  and  a 
branch  of  their  bright  shining  green  leaves  and  coral 
berries  looks  exceedingly  well  in  a  Japanese  wedge  and 
lasts  a  long  time.  We  plant  the  male  and  female  plants 
close  together,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  that  is  necessary. 

March  l%th. — Asparagus  should  be  planted  now,  and, 


MARCH  41 

to  save  time,  it  is  best  to  get  two-year-old  plants  from 
France.  I  recommend  Godfrey  le  Boeuf,  Horticulteur, 
Argenteuil,  pres  Paris.  Dig  the  ground  three  spits  deep 
— that  is,  the  depth  of  three  spades — and  put  in  every- 
thing you  can  that  is  good  :  well-rotted  farm-manure, 
the  emptying  of  cesspools,  butchers'  offal,  dead  animals, 
anything  to  enrich  the  soil  for  a  long  time.  Cover  up, 
cut  out  one  spit  deep  in  trenches,  and  plant  the  Asparagus 
a  good  way  apart  in  single  crowns.  They  do  best  planted 
in  single  rows  with  other  crops  in  between.  The  goodness 
of  Asparagus  depends  on  the  summer  top -growth,  so,  if  the 
weather  is  dry,  they  must  be  watered  or  liquid-manured, 
and  should  never  be  cut  down  till  late  in  the  autumn. 

It  is  a  great  mistake,  when  marking  the  nurseryman's 
seed  list,  to  order  the  vegetable  described  as  '  giant,' 
'  large,'  '  perfection,'  etc.  Unless  your  soil  is  very  strong 
such  vegetables  do  not  grow  large,  and  they  do  grow 
tough  and  tasteless.  This  '  giant '  cultivation  has  been 
brought  about  to  win  prizes  at  shows.  Amongst  the 
delicious  vegetables  that  have  been  ruined  by  growing 
them  too  large  are  Brussels  Sprouts.  I  consider  those 
sold  in  the  London  shops  are  not  worth  eating,  they  are 
so  coarse ;  but  one  can  get  the  seeds  of  old-fashioned 
small  kinds.  These  are  far  sweeter,  nicer,  and  prettier, 
either  for  putting  into  soup,  for  boiling  and  frying  after- 
wards in  butter,  or  for  boiling  quite  plainly  in  the  ordinary 
English  way.  They  are  also  far  more  delicate  for  a 
pure"e,  which  is  an  excellent  way  of  dressing  them.  If 
fried  and  put  on  buttered  toast,  they  make  a  very  nice 
second-course  vegetable  in  winter. 

Do  other  housekeepers  ever  wonder  why  we  are  con- 
demned invariably  to  eat  Whitings  with  their  tails  in 
their  mouths  and  always  skinned  ?  One  of  the  reasons  is 
that  small  Haddocks  are  constantly  sold  by  fishmongers 
for  the  rarer  Whiting ;  and  if  skinned,  they  are  not  so  easy 


42  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

to  recognise.  Try  Whitings  sometimes  as  they  are  eaten 
in  Paris  —lay  them  flat,  not  curled  nor  skinned,  and  cook 
them  in  a  deep  dish  with  butter  or  parsley.  Squeeze 
lemon  into  them,  and  serve  with  brown  bread  and  butter. 
They  can  also  be  fried  in  the  usual  way,  only  not  curled. 
I  think  your  male  kind  will  approve  of  the  change. 

March  Wth. — I  find  that  this  is  the  best  time  for 
sowing  annuals  that  have  to  be  sown  in  place.  If  sown 
later,  they  never  do  so  well.  Poppies,  Love-in-the-Mist, 
Mignonette,  Sweet  Sultans,  Bartonia  aurea,  etc.  This 
latter  is  a  very  effective  annual.  It  must  be  sown  in  a 
large  clump  and  well  thinned  out,  which  is  the  secret  of 
most  annuals.  Twice  a  year,  about  March  15th  and 
September  15th,  I  sow  together  broadcast  Love-in-the- 
Mist  and  Gypsophila  gracilis.  They  seem  to  support 
each  other,  and  fixing  a  day  for  the  sowing  prevents  one 
from  forgetting. 

In  the  old  convent  gardens  Calvary  Clover  was  sup- 
posed not  to  grow  unless  sown  on  Good  Friday.  It  is 
a  curious  little  annual,  with  a  blood-red  spot  on  each  leaf, 
and  the  seed-pod  is  surrounded  by  a  case  which  pulls 
out,  or  rather  unwinds,  into  a  miniature  crown  of  thorns. 
A  friend  has  asked  me  what  she  should  plant  on  the 
front  of  a  lovely  old  house  facing  south.  It  now  has  on 
it  at  one  end  Ivy  and  on  the  other  an  old  Wistaria.  My 
first  advice  is  take  away  the  Ivy ;  the  place  is  too  good  for 
it,  and  it  hides  the  beautiful  old  brickwork.  An  old 
Wistaria  is  quite  lovely  if  part  or  all  of  it  is  dragged  away 
from  the  house  and  trained  over  wooden  posts,  either  in 
front  of  a  window  or  a  door,  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of 
pergola.  Until  this  is  done,  or  it  is  grown  as  they  do 
it  in  Japan — namely,  as  a  standard,  with  its  branches 
spread  and  supported  all  around,  and  you  stand  beneath 
it— you  have  no  idea  of  the  joy  that  is  to  be  got  out  of  a 
Wistaria,  with  its  beautiful  lilac  blooms  hanging  from  the 


MARCH  43 

bare  and  twisted  branches  above  your  head  and  the  blue 
sky  behind  them.  The  whole  effect  is  indeed  different 
and  very  superior  to  that  of  seeing  the  blooms  hanging 
straight  and  flat  from  branches  nailed  close  to  the  wall. 
Unless  it  is  protected  from  the  north  and  east,  it  is  of 
course  more  liable,  in  unfavourable  springs,  to  have  its 
blooms  injured  by  late  frosts.  The  plant  itself,  I  believe, 
is  absolutely  hardy. 

The  creepers  I  recommended  to  plant  on  a  south 
front  are  as  follows  : — 

Magnolia  grandiflora — the  roots  must  be  pulled 
about,  not  cut,  and  manured  in  the  autumn  for  the  first 
few  years  after  planting,  to  make  it  grow  quickly ;  a 
Yellow  Banksia,  single  if  possible,  but  they  are  not  easy 
to  get ;  an  early  yellow  Dutch  Honeysuckle ;  a  Pyrus 
japonica ;  Chimonantkus  fragrans,  now  called  Calyc- 
anthus  prcecox ;  a  Beve  d'Or  Eose;  a  La  Marque  Eose 
(no  house  is  perfect  without  one) ;  a  few  Clematises,  which 
in  non-chalky  soils  must  have  chalk  and  lime  or  brick- 
rubbish  put  to  their  roots,  not  manure  ;  Choisya  ternata, 
a  low-growing  shrub,  wherever  there  is  room  between  the 
other  plants ;  a  Marechal  Niel  Eose.  Forsythia  suspensa, 
Jasminum  nudiflorum,  Clematis  montana,  and  late  Dutch 
Honeysuckle  will  all  do  on  the  east  and  west  sides  of  a 
house  as  well  as  on  the  south.  Two  other  things  that 
would  grow  on  the  south  wall  are  Bignonia  radicans  and 
Garry  a  elliptica,  a  charming  evergreen  with  fascinating 
catkins,  which  form  in  January.  The  male  or  pollen- 
bearing  plant  is  the  handsomest. 

This  list  I  actually  made  in  the  autumn,  which  is 
really  the  best  time  for  planting ;  but  there  is  often  so 
much  to  do  then  that  planting  is  apt  to  get  postponed,  and 
rather  than  lose  a  whole  year,  spring  planting  is  quite 
worth  trying.  In  damp  soils  I  really  believe  it  answers 
best.  In  dry  soils,  or  where  a  plant  is  likely  to  be  robbed 


44    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

by  the  roots  of  neighbouring  shrubs,  or  by  old-established 
climbers,  it  is  not  a  bad  plan  to  sink  in  the  ground  an  old 
tub  or  half-cask,  or  even  an  old  tin  footbath  with  the 
bottom  knocked  out.  Then  fill  it  with  the  best  soil,  and 
put  in  your  plant ;  it  will  benefit  more  in  this  way  from 
watering  in  dry  weather.  There  is  nothing  so  disappoint- 
ing as  to  lose  a  plant  in  spring,  as  that  means  the  loss  of 
a  whole  year. 

Having  given  the  above  list,  which  is  pretty  well  as 
large  as  any  moderate-sized  house  would  hold,  I  may  as 
well  add  some  further  names  to  choose  from,  all  of  which 
are  worth  growing.  Magnolia  purpurea,  M.  stellata,  and 
M.  conspicua  may  all  be  grown  against  walls,  or  planted 
in  sheltered  situations  as  shrubs.  Yellow  Jasmine  (not 
nudiflorum)  in  favourable  situations  does  well.  Cratcegus 
pyracantha  Icelandi  is  the  best  of  the  Pyracanthuses — I 
believe,  an  invaluable  shrub.  If  well  pruned,  it  berries  so 
brilliantly  that  where  people  only  inhabit  their  houses  in 
late  autumn  it  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  satisfactory 
plants  that  can  be  planted.  I  know  one  large  red  house 
which  is  covered  all  round  up  to  a  certain  height  with  this 
plant,  and  the  effect  is  very  decorative,  though  to  have  a 
house  entirely  covered  with  only  one  species  of  plant  is 
very  dull  from  a  gardener's  point  of  view.  Unless  care- 
fully cut  back  and  pruned  early  in  the  winter,  it  never 
flowers  and  berries  well,  but  forms  a  dense  mass  of  dark- 
green  leaves. 

Cotoneasters,  various,  are  useful  much  in  the  same 
way,  and,  I  think,  endure  better  very  dry  situations. 
Forsythia  fortunei  and  other  varieties.  Pyrus  japonica, 
now  called  Cydonia,  various  shades  (this  is  one  of  the 
most  precious  and  invaluable  of  the  early  flowering  shrubs, 
and  deserves  the  best  places  to  be  found  on  warm  walls). 
Ceanothus  grandiflorus  (Gloire  de  Versailles)  is  the 
largest  flowering  variety,  I  believe,  and  a  pretty  pale-blue 


MARCH  45 

colour,  flowering  in  July,  which  is  always  valuable.  C. 
cceruleus  is  a  beautiful  dark-blue  colour;  it  flowers 
earlier,  and  is  not  so  hardy.  Cercis,  or  common  Judas 
Tree,  and  Buddleia  globosa  both  look  well  on  walls  where 
there  is  room.  Vitis  coignetice  is  a  very  handsome  rapid 
grower,  and  covers  quickly  a  barn,  a  roof,  or  a  dead  tree. 
The  claret-coloured  Vine,  with  its  little  bunches  of  black 
grapes,  is  very  effective.  The  grapes  are  used  in  France 
and  Germany  for  darkening  the  colour  of  wine.  Abelia 
rupestris,  a  lovely  little,  rather  tender  shrub,  would  grow 
admirably  against  low  greenhouse  walls.  Why  are  such 
spots  generally  left  quite  empty  by  gardeners  in  large 
places?  The  single  white  McCartney  Rose  would  do 
well  in  a  similar  situation,  and  for  those  who  are  in  the 
country  in  June  it  is  well  worth  a  place.  Aimee  Vibert, 
Gloire  des  Bosemaines,  and  Fallenberg  are  delightful  Eoses 
for  house  or  pergola.  Sweet  Verbena  (A  loysia  citriodora) — 
Why,  oh  !  why,  is  this  little  shrub,  which  everyone  is  so 
fond  of,  grown  so  little  out  of  doors  ?  Practically,  with  a 
little  care,  its  roots  are  quite  hardy,  as  in  the  very  severe 
winter  of  two  years  ago  only  one  of  mine,  out  of  five  or 
six  plants,  was  killed.  It  requires  nothing  but  planting 
out  late  in  May,  watering,  and  not  picking  at  first,  as  the 
growth  of  the  shoots  makes  the  roots  grow.  It  may  be 
picked  in  early  autumn  as  much  as  you  like,  but  the 
summer  growth  should  not  be  cut  down  to  the  ground 
till  the  following  spring.  It  is  the  easiest  plant  possible 
to  strike  in  spring,  and  there  should  be  plants  of  it 
planted  in  greenhouses,  others  grown  in  pots,  and  brought 
on  in  stoves  in  spring ;  but  nearly  all  gardeners  are  satisfied 
with  one  little  plant  of  it  in  a  pot,  unless  they  are  urged 
to  increase  it.  Mock  Orange  (Philadelphus  grandiflorus) 
looks  very  well  against  a  warm  wall  in  July,  but  should 
not  be  nailed  in  too  tight.  Piptanthus  nepalensis  on  a 
warm  wall  is  admirable,  but  rare ;  I  have  only  seen  it  once. 


46  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Schizophragma  hydrangeoides  is  a  good  wall-plant.  For 
those  who  can  get  it  to  do  on  a  half-shaded  wall,  is  there 
any  greater  joy  to  the  south  country  gardener  than  the 
Tropceolum  speciosum  ?  There  is  an  illustration  of  it  in 
the  'English  Flower  Garden'  (Flame Nasturtium),  where 
it  is  depicted  growing  up  strings.  I  think,  however,  it 
looks  better  if  grown  over  some  light  creeper,  Jasmine 
especially.  It  wants  peat  and  moisture,  and,  above  all,  it 
must  be  in  a  place  the  spade  or  fork  never  reaches,  as  its 
thin  little  creeping  white  roots  are  easily  disturbed,  and 
even  mistaken  for  a  weed  and  thrown  away. 

March  %2nd. — Such  a  lovely  spring  day,  in  spite  of  its 
cold  wind ;  it  makes  me  long  to  be  sixteen  miles  away  in 
my  little  garden.  Even  here  in  London  great  pure  white 
stately  clouds  are  sailing  over  the  blue.  How  lucky  I  am 
to  be  going  away  so  soon  !  I  wish  it  gave  half  as  much 
pleasure  to  the  rest  of  the  family  as  it  does  to  me  ;  but 
one  of  the  few  advantages  of  old  age  is  that  we  may  be 
innocently  selfish.  A  day  like  this  makes  me  think  of  a 
little  poem  that  appeared  in  the  Spectator  twenty  years 
ago.  It  was  written  by  a  young  clergyman's  wife,  who 
worked  hard  amidst  the  sordid  blackness  of  a  manufactur- 
ing town  on  the  banks  of  the  Tyne.  My  young  friends 
will  say,  '  How  morbid  are  Aunt  T.'s  quotations  ! '  It  is 
perhaps  true ;  but  all  bright,  lovable,  sympathetic  souls 
had  a  touch  of  morbidness  in  the  days  that  are  gone,  and 
these  '  Notes  '  have  no  meaning  at  all  unless  I  try  to  give 
out  in  them  the  impressions  received  during  forty  years. 

THE  POET  IN  THE   CITY 

The  poet  stood  in  the  sombre  town, 

And  spoke  to  his  heart  and  said : 
'  0  weary  prison,  devised  by  man  ! 

0  seasonless  place  and  dead ! ' 
His  heart  was  sad,  for  afar  he  heard 

The  sound  of  the  spring's  light  tread. 


MARCH  47 

He  thought  he  saw  in  the  pearly  East 

The  pale  March  sun  arise  ; 
The  happy  housewife  beneath  the  thatch, 

With  hand  above  her  eyes, 
Look  out  to  the  cawing  rooks,  that  built 

So  near  to  the  quiet  skies. 

Out  of  the  smoke  and  noise  and  sin 

The  heart  of  the  poet  cried  : 
'  O  God  !  but  to  be  Thy  labourer  there, 

On  the  gentle  hill's  green  side — 
To  leave  the  struggle  of  want  and  wealth, 

And  the  battle  of  lust  and  pride  ! ' 

He  bent  his  ear,  and  he  heard  afar 

The  growing  of  tender  things, 
And  his  heart  broke  forth  with  the  travailing  earth 

And  shook  with  tremulous  wings 
Of  sweet  brown  birds  that  had  never  known 

The  dirge  of  the  city's  sins. 

And  later,  when  all  the  earth  was  green 

As  the  garden  of  the  Lord — 
Primroses  opening  their  innocent  faces, 

Cowslips  scattered  abroad, 
Blue-bells  mimicking  summer  skies, 

And  the  song  of  the  thrush  out-poured — 

The  changeless  days  were  so  sad  to  him 

That  the  poet's  heart  beat  strong, 
And  he  struggled  as  some  poor  caged  lark, 

And  he  cried,  '  How  long — how  long  ? 
I  have  missed  a  spring  I  can  never  see, 

And  the  singing  of  birds  is  gone.' 

But  when  the  time  of  the  roses  came 

And  the  nightingale  hushed  her  lay, 
The  poet,  still  in  the  dusty  town, 

Went  quietly  on  his  way — 
A  poorer  poet  by  just  one  spring, 

And  a  richer  man  by  one  suffering. 

I  must  begin  to  tell  you  about  my  old  garden  books, 
and  how  I  first  came  to  know  about  them,  and  then  to 


48     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

collect  them.  Until  lately  I  was  absolutely  ignorant  of 
their  existence,  and  had  never  seen  an  illustrated  flower 
book  of  the  last  century.  About  fifteen  years  ago  I  was 
living  in  London,  with  apparently  small  prospect  of  ever 
living  in  the  country  again,  or  of  ever  possessing  a 
garden  of  my  own.  When  '  A  Year  in  a  Lancashire 
Garden,'  by  Henry  A.  Bright,  was  published  in  1879,  the 
book  charmed  me,  and  I  thought  it  simple,  unaffected, 
and  original.  I  had  not  then  seen  Dr.  Forbes  Watson's 
delightful  little  book,  '  Flowers  and  Gardens,'  alluded  to 
by  Henry  Bright.  '  A  Year  in  a  Lancashire  Garden '  has 
been  much  imitated,  but,  to  my  mind,  none  of  the 
imitations  possess  the  charm  of  the  original.  It  is  a 
fascinating  chat  about  a  garden  to  read  in  a  town  and 
dream  over  as  I  did.  It  revived  in  me,  almost  to 
longing,  the  old  wish  to  have  a  garden,  and  I  resolved, 
if  it  were  ever  realised,  that  every  plant  named  by 
Henry  Bright  I  would  get  and  try  to  grow.  This  I 
literally  carried  out  when  I  came  to  live  in  Surrey.  His 
joys  have  been  my  joys,  and  his  failures  have  some- 
times been  mine  too.  In  the  '  Lancashire  Garden '  I 
was  delighted  to  find  a  sentence  which  exactly  expresses 
an  opinion  I  had  long  held,  but  never  met  with  in  words 
before.  As  I  agree  with  it  even  more  strongly  now  than 
I  did  then,  it  is  well  I  should  quote  it  here,  for  the  evil  it 
denounces  exists  still,  not  only  in  England,  but  even 
more  in  several  countries  I  have  visited  abroad :  '  For 
the  ordinary  bedding-out  of  ordinary  gardens  I  have  a 
real  contempt.  It  is  at  once  gaudy  and  monotonous. 
A  garden  is  left  bare  for  eight  months  in  the  year,  that 
for  the  four  hottest  months  there  shall  be  a  blaze  of  the 
hottest  colours.  The  same  combination  of  the  same 
flowers  appear  wherever  you  go — Calceolarias,  Verbenas, 
and  Zonal  Pelargoniums,  with  a  border  of  Pyrethrums 
or  Cerastiums;  and  that  is  about  all.  There  is  no 


MARCH  49 

thought  and  no  imagination.'  Yet  twenty  years  ago  this 
sort  of  garden  was  like  Tory  politics,  or  Church  and 
State,  and  seemed  to  represent  all  that  was  considered 
respectable  and  desirable.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
bombshell  I  seemed  to  fling  into  a  family  circle  when  I 
injudiciously  and  vehemently  said  that  I  hated  parks  and 
bedded-out  gardens. 

In  Mr.  Bright' s  book  I  first  saw  the  mention  of 
Curtis's  'Botanical  Magazine,'  and  afterwards  came 
across  a  few  stray  illustrations  out  of  it.  Many  of  these 
old  gardening  books  were,  I  fear,  cut  up  and  sold  for 
screens  and  scrap-books  when  there  was  no  sale  for 
the  complete  works.  I  was  much  struck  with  the 
beauty  and  delicacy  of  these  hand-coloured  flower  plates, 
and  so  began  my  first  interest  in  old  flower  books, 
which  has  led  by  degrees  to  my  present  collection.  At 
one  time  I  thought  of  giving  some  account  of  the 
Herbals  and  botanical  works  at  the  library  of  the 
South  Kensington  Natural  History  Museum,  where 
there  is  a  very  fine  collection,  which  begins  with  the 
early  Herbals  and  includes  botany  and  gardening 
books.  This,  however,  proved  to  be  too  ambitious 
a  work;  but  a  short  account  of  my  own  books  may 
be  of  some  interest,  for  these,  though  far  from  being 
a  large  collection,  extend  over  nearly  three  hundred 
years.  The  knowledge  of  the  very  existence  of  these 
beautifully  illustrated  Herbals  and  old  gardening  books 
is  even  now  limited,  though  they  are  within  reach  of 
everybody  at  the  Natural  History  Museum.  Probably 
the  reason  why  these  books  so  suddenly  fell  out  of  all 
knowledge  is  owing  to  the  letterpress,  which  is  often  in 
Latin,  having,  for  one  reason  or  another,  become  obsolete. 
No  one  now  consults  Herbals  medically,  or  goes  to 
old  books  for  botanical  instruction. 


50     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

I  will  arrange  the  account  of  my  books  in  chronological 
order,  according  to  the  date  of  their  publication  :— 

1614.  'Hortus  Floridus,  by  Eembertus  Dodonaeus 
and  Carolus  Clusius.'  This  is  the  earliest  gardening 
book  I  possess.  It  was  printed  in  Amsterdam,  and  is  a 
real  representation  of  cultivated  garden  flowers,  not  a 
Herbal  in  any  sense.  It  has  a  frontispiece  with  the 
portraits  of  the  two  authors,  which  was  common  enough 
in  the  old  Dutch  books  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries.  Jupiter  and  Diana  are  represented  on  either 
side  of  the  page,  with  wreaths  of  flowers  hung  along  the 
top,  and  plants  growing  in  pots  placed  at  the  bottom. 
The  title  of  the  book  is  in  the  centre.  The  plates 
are  not  coloured,  but  the  flowers  are  very  well  drawn. 
There  are  two  charming  pictures  of  Dutch  gardens  sur- 
rounded by  an  arched  wall  with  creepers,  straight  paths, 
and  beds  edged  with  box.  In  one  a  woman  is  gathering 
Tulips,  dressed  in  the  quaint  fashion  of  the  period,  and  a 
man  is  leaning  over  a  wooden  or  stone  railing  looking  at 
her.  The  number  and  variety  of  exotic  flowers  figured 
in  the  book  is  surprising.  Besides  all  the  ordinary 
spring  bulbs  which  are  now  grown,  there  are  Sun- 
flowers, called  Indian  Golden  Suns  (Helianthuses,  of 
course,  all  came  from  America),  Cannas,  Marvels  of  Peru 
(called  Merveille  d'Inde  a  diver ses  couleurs),  Nicotiana, 
etc.  Insects  are  introduced  on  several  of  the  plates,  and 
in  one  or  two  instances  mice  are  feeding  on  the  bulbs 
which  lie  on  the  ground.  The  African  Agapanthus  is 
called  Narcissus  marinus  exoticus.  Both  the  Helle- 
bores are  here,  and  all  the  flowers  are  so  well  drawn  as 
to  be  perfectly  recognisable.  The  book  is  an  oblong 
shape,  bound  in  unstiffened  white  parchment.  It  is  well 
preserved,  though  some  Philistine  lady  of  the  last  century 
has,  with  patient  industry,  pricked  some  of  the  flowers 
and  insects  all  round  for  the  purpose  of  taking  the  out- 


MARCH  51 

lines  for  needlework.  The  book  historically  is  certainly 
interesting.  The  text  is  in  Latin,  but  even  the  unlearned 
reader  is  able  to  realise  how  horticulturally  perfect  may 
have  been  the  gardens  of  Europe  where  Louis  XIII.  of 
France  played  as  a  child,  and  the  number  and  richness 
of  the  flowers  which  our  Prince  Charles  of  Wales  (his 
future  brother-in-law)  may  have  gazed  at  from  his  palace 
windows  or  enjoyed  when  gathered.  This,  perhaps, 
helped  to  nourish  the  great  taste  for  art  which  Charles  I., 
more  than  all  our  other  kings,  developed  later  in  life. 

1629.  I  have  both  the  Parkinsons.  The  first  pub- 
lished of  the  two  has  the  following  curious  descriptive 
inscription  written  on  a  shield  at  the  bottom  of  the  title- 
page  :- 

PARADISI  IN  SOLE 
PARADISUS  TERRESTRIS. 

A  GARDEN  OF  ALL  SORTS  OF  PLEASANT  FLOWERS  WHICH  OUR 
ENGLISH  AYRE  WILL  PERMITT  TO  BE  NOURSED  UP  : 

WITH 
A  KITCHEN  GARDEN  OF  ALL  MANNER  OF  HERBES,  RAVIES,  AND  FRUITES 

FOR  MEATS    OR   SAUSE    USED   WITH   US, 
AND 

AN  ORCHARD  OF  ALL  SORTS  OF  FRUIT-BEARING  TREES 
AND  SHRUBBS  FIT  FOR  OUR  LAND, 

TOGETHER 

WITH  THE  RIGHT  ORDERINGE,  PLANTING,  AND  PRESARVING 
OF  THEM,  AND  THEIR  USES  AND  VERTUES. 
COLLECTED  BY  JOHN  PARKINSON, 
APOTHECARY  OF  LONDON. 


The  picture  on  the  title-page  portrays  the  Garden 
of  Eden  with  Adam  and  Eve  tending  the  flowers. 
The  outward  edge  is  rimmed  with  spikes  representing 
the  sun's  rays.  At  the  top  is  the  eye  of  Providence,  and 

z2 


52  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

on  each  side  a  cherub  symbolising  the  winds.  In  the 
centre  of  the  garden  is  the  famous  Vegetable  Lamb, 
supposed  to  be  half  animal  and  half  plant.  This  curious 
myth  of  the  Middle  Ages  lingered  on,  and  was  actually 
discussed  as  a  matter  of  faith  by  scientific  men  towards 
the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  Borametz,  or 
Scythian  Lamb,  or  Vegetable  Lamb  of  Tartary,  as 
described  by  travellers,  appears  in  both  the  frontispieces 
of  Parkinson's  books.  When  studying  the  flower  books 
at  the  South  Kensington  Museum,  I  felt  curious 
about  this  tradition,  which  the  Church  of  the  Middle 
Ages  took  up,  making  it  a  matter  of  faith  that  the 
Vegetable  Lamb  grew  in  Paradise  and  was  in  some 
mysterious  way  typical  of  the  Christian  Lamb.  My  brain 
was  soon  cleared  by  finding  at  the  Museum  a  book 
written  by  Mr.  Henry  Lee,  and  published  as  late  as  1887, 
giving  an  excellent  account  of  the  whole  tradition.  This 
book,  called  '  The  Vegetable  Lamb  of  Tartary/  contains 
several  pictures,  reproduced  from  old  books,  of  the  lamb. 
Some  represent  it  growing,  as  Parkinson  has  it,  on  a  stem, 
from  which  it  was  supposed  to  eat  the  grass  as  far  as  it 
could  reach  and  then  die.  Another  picture  is  of  a  tree 
with  large  cocoons,  which  burst  open  and  display  a  lamb. 
The  belief  seems  to  have  been  that  the  lamb  was  at  the 
same  time  both  a  true  animal  and  a  living  plant.  Mr.  Lee 
carefully  goes  through  the  whole  tradition,  quoting  all 
the  known  sources  from  which  it  arose.  According  to 
him,  about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  very 
little  belief  in  the  story  of  the  Scythian  Lamb  remained 
among  men  of  letters,  although  it  continued  to  be  a  subject 
of  discussion  and  research  for  at  least  a  hundred  and 
fifty  years  later.  He  sums  up  his  explanation  with  the 
following  sentence  : — *  Tracing  the  growth  and  transition 
of  this  story  of  the  lamb-plant  from  a  truthful  rumour  of 
a  curious  fact  into  a  detailed  history  of  an  absurd  fiction, 


MARCH  53 

I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  it  originated  in  early 
descriptions  of  the  cotton  plant,  and  the  introduction  of 
cotton  from  India  into  Western  Asia  and  the  adjoining 
parts  of  Eastern  Europe.'  All  this  seems  so  simple  as 
explained  by  Mr.  Lee,  how  the  early  travellers  came  back 
and  said,  '  In  the  far  East  there  is  a  tree  on  which  grows 
the  most  beautiful  fine  wool,  and  the  natives  weave  their 
garments  of  it.'  The  Western  mind  could  conceive  of  no 
wool  except  that  of  a  lamb ;  in  this  way  the  fiction  grew, 
and  was  passed  on  from  one  writer  to  another.  In  a 
poem  by  Erasmus  Darwin,  published  in  1781,  of  which 
more  hereafter,  it  is  alluded  to  as  a  plant  that  grew  on 
the  steppes  of  the  Volga  in  the  following  terms : — 

E'en  round  the  Pole  the  flames  of  love  aspire, 
And  icy  bosoms  feel  the  sacred  fire. 
Cradled  in  snow  and  fanned  by  Arctic  air, 
Shines,  gentle  Borametz,  thy  golden  hair ; 
Booted  in  earth,  each  cloven  foot  descends, 
And  round  and  round  her  flexile  neck  she  bends, 
Crops  the  grey  coral  moss  and  hoary  thyme 
Or  laps  with  rosy  tongue  the  melting  rime ; 
Eyes  with  mute  tenderness  her  distant  dam, 
And  seems  to  bleat — a  '  vegetable  lamb.' 

Curiously  enough,  when  in  Norway  last  year,  I  came 
across  an  old  wooden  chair,  and  the  back  was  carved  in 
a  way  that  seems  to  me  conclusively  to  represent  this 
old  tradition.  The  design  is  a  lamb  enclosed  in  a  circular 
cocoon,  surrounded  by  branches  and  leaves.  This  chair 
I  have  now. 

In  the  '  Nineteenth  Century '  of  January  1880,  there 
appeared  a  very  interesting  article  on  Parkinson's 
'  Paradisi  in  Sole,'  called  '  Old-fashioned  Gardening,'  by 
Mrs.  Kegan  Paul.  She  describes  the  title-page,  and  says, 
1  The  tree  of  knowledge,  its  fruit  still  unplucked  by  Adam, 
appears  in  the  centre  of  the  plate.'  I  thought  we  were 


54  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

told  that  Adam  never  did  pick  it,  but  received  it  from  the 
hand  of  Eve  ?  But  this  is  a  trifling  criticism  on  a  useful 
and  original  article.  Mrs.  Paul  makes  a  great  many 
delightful  quotations  from  Parkinson,  and  says  that  he  is 
'  not  content  to  deny  that  single  flowers  can  be  trans- 
formed into  double  "  by  the  observation  of  the  change  of 
the  Moone,  the  constellations  or  conjunctions  of  Planets 
or  some  other  Starres  or  celestial  bodies."  Parkinson 
holds  that  such  transformation  could  not  be  effected  by 
the  art  of  man.'  In  her  condemnation  of  bedding-out 
and  in  her  admiration  of  the  old-fashioned  English 
garden,  read  by  the  light  of  these  sixteen  years,  Mrs. 
Paul's  article  is  almost  prophetic.  The  '  Paradisi  in  Sole  ' 
is  essentially  a  book  describing  a  garden  of  '  pleasant 
flowers  '  and  with  many  interesting  details  about  their 
cultivation.  There  is  no  allusion  to  medical  matter  at 
all,  though,  as  usual,  the  botanist  was  a  doctor.  The 
woodcuts  are  rather  coarser  and  rougher  than  in  the 
Dutch  book  before  described,  but  they  are  fairly  drawn 
and  generally  like  N  ature.  In  a  little  book  by  Mrs.  Ewing, 
called  '  Mary's  Meadow,'  the  author  speaks  a  good  deal 
of  this  book  of  Parkinson's,  and  in  a  footnote  she  alludes 
to  the  fact  that  the  title  is  an  absurd  play  upon  words, 
after  the  fashion  of  Parkinson's  day.  Paradise  is 
originally  an  Eastern  word,  meaning  a  park  or  pleasure 
ground.  Paradisi  in  sole  Paradisus  terrestris  means 
Park-in-son's  Earthly  Paradise ! 

1640.  We  now  come  to  Parkinson's  second  book, 
'  The  Theatre  of  Plants,  or  an  Universal  and  Complete 
Herbal.  Composed  by  John  Parkinson,  Apothecary  of 
London  and  the  King's  Herbarist ' — ('  the  King '  being 
Charles  I.,  at  the  time  just  preceding  his  execution). 
The  frontispiece  is  quite  as  curious  in  its  way  as  the 
one  in  the  '  Paradisi  in  Sole.'  It  has  a  portrait  of  old 
Parkinson  in  a  skull-cap,  looking  very  wise  and  holding 


MARCH  55 

a  flower  that  looks  like  a  Gaillardia.  In  the  middle  of 
the  page  is  the  title,  with  Adam  on  one  side,  dressed  in 
the  skin  of  a  beast  and  holding  a  very  fine  spade,  like  the 
spades  used  in  France  to  this  day.  This,  I  imagine, 
represents  Toil,  while  Wisdom  is  personified  on  the  other 
side  by  Solomon.  He  is  clad  in  the  conventional  dress 
of  the  kings  of  the  Middle  Ages — a  long  cloak,  a  cape  of 
ermine,  a  spiked  crown,  a  sceptre,  bare  legs,  and  a  pair  of 
Eoman  sandals.  At  the  top  of  the  page  is  the  eye  of 
God  with  a  Hebrew  word  written  below  it.  At  the  four 
corners  are  four  female  figures  representing  Europe, 
Asia,  Africa,  and  America.  Europe,  only,  is  in  a  chariot 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  horses.  Asia,  riding  a  rhinoceros, 
wears  a  very  short  skirt  and  curious,  pointed,  curled  shoes, 
not  unlike  the  slippers  still  worn  in  Turkey,  and  a  stiff 
headdress  that  resembles  those  used  by  women  in  the 
thirteenth  century.  Africa  has  no  clothes,  only  a  hat, 
and  rides  a  zebra.  America  has  a  bow  and  arrow,  and 
rides,  also  without  clothes,  a  curious  long-eared  sheep. 
These  ladies  are  surrounded  by  the  vegetation  supposed 
to  be  typical  of  each  country.  Among  other  plants,  Asia 
has  again  the  Vegetable  Lamb  before  described,  and 
Asia,  not  America,  has  the  Indian  Corn  (Maize),  which, 
I  believe,  is  supposed  to  be  as  exclusively  indigenous  to 
America  as  Tobacco  is.  It  appears  to  have  been  entirely 
unknown  to  the  Old  World,  and  has  never  been  found  with 
other  corn  in  any  of  the  old  tombs,  or  alluded  to  in  the 
classics.  Its  cultivation  must  have  spread  very  quickly, 
and  it  is  known  all  over  the  South  of  Europe  as  Ble 
de  Turquie  to  this  day.  Turquie  was  the  term  used 
in  the  Middle  Ages  for  describing  anything  foreign. 
When  the  early  discoverers  of  Canada  went  up  the 
St.  Lawrence  and  reached  the  rapids,  which  still  bear 
the  name  of  La  Chine  rapids,  they  thought  they  had 
reached  the  China  seas  and  joined  the  continent  of  Asia, 


56  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

It  is,  therefore,  curious  to  note  that  Parkinson  figures  an 
American  plant  amongst  the  vegetation  of  Asia.  The 
old  Red  Indian  natives  of  North  America  used  to  sow  the 
Maize  with  a  fish  on  either  side  of  the  seed  to  propitiate 
their  gods.  No  wonder  it  grew  luxuriantly.  Africa  has 
in  the  foreground  what  appears  to  be  a  Stapelia,  Aloes, 
and  Date-palms.  America  has  Cactuses,  Pineapples,  and 
the  large  Sunflower,  being  the  vegetation  rather  of  South 
than  North  America.  As  representing  the  geographical 
knowledge  and  art  notions  of  the  day,  it  is  decidedly  an 
interesting  title-page.  The  woodcuts  throughout  the 
book  are  of  the  whole  plant,  root  and  all ;  but  they  are 
without  much  character,  all  about  the  same  size,  and  less 
well-drawn  than  the  flowers  in  the  *  Paradisi.'  The 
medical  properties  of  the  plants  are  described  at  length 
and  with  much  detail,  and  are  really  curious.  I  wonder 
if  our  complicated  prescriptions  and  remedies  will  some 
day  sink  to  the  level  which  the  science  of  herbs  has 
reached  to-day.  It  would  not  be  so  very  surprising  if  this 
should  happen,  considering  how  much  the  faith  put  in 
the  modern  drugs  resembles  the  belief  in  cures  as 
described  in  these  old  Herbals.  At  the  Museum  there  is 
a  great  collection  of  Herbals  of  all  nationalities,  especially 
German.  They  are  all  much  of  the  same  kind,  and 
illustrated  in  the  same  way  as  this  one  of  Parkinson's, 
leading  one  to  conjecture  that  the  medical  science 
throughout  Europe  at  this  time  was  about  on  a 
level. 

1633.  'The  Herbal  or  General  Historic  of  Plants 
gathered  by  John  Gerarde,  of  London,  Master  in  Chirur- 
gerie.'  This  edition  of  Gerarde's  Herbal  appeared  between 
the  publication  of  Parkinson's  two  books  just  described, 
but  it  is  a  reprint  of  an  earlier  edition,  very  much  enlarged 
and  amended  by  Thomas  Johnson,  citizen  and  apothecary. 
The  frontispiece  is  stately  and  serious.  The  title  is  on  a 


MARCH  57 

shield  in  the  middle,  with  a  column  on  each  side  dividing 
it  from  two  draped  figures,  Theophrastus  on  the  left  and 
Dioscorides  on  the  right.  Above  these  two  figures,  but 
divided  from  them  by  a  line,  are  Ceres  and  Pomona,  both 
fully  draped.  Ceres  has  a  sheaf  of  wheat  in  her  arms,  and 
behind  her  grows  the  Indian  corn.  A  ploughed  field  is 
spread  out  in  the  distance  on  her  left.  In  the  middle, 
between  these  figures,  are  growing  plants  and  flowers  and 
an  orchard.  At  the  bottom  of  the  page  is  a  fine  portrait 
of  Gerarde,  holding  a  flower  I  do  not  recognise.  He  is 
dressed  in  the  correct  costume  and  ruffle  of  Charles  I. 
On  each  side  of  him  the  spaces  are  filled  by  two  vases 
of  different  shape  and  design,  in  which  are  various 
flowers  arranged  in  a  stiff  and  formal  manner,  typical  of 
flower  arrangements  in  that  time  and  long  after,  as  we 
see  depicted  by  art  in  this  and  other  countries.  Nowhere 
on  the  page  does  there  appear  any  representation  of  the 
Vegetable  Lamb,  nor  can  I  find  any  reference  to  it  in  the 
text.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  there  is  an  elaborate 
allusion  to  what  Mr.  Lee  describes  in  his  book  on  the 
Vegetable  Lamb,  before  mentioned,  as  the  companion 
superstition  of  the  Barnacle  Geese.  Gerarde  gives  a  most 
interesting  and  detailed  account — too  long,  alas  !  for  me  to 
quote — of  having  seen  the  barnacles  and  watched  their 
development  into  tree-geese.  He  corroborates  his  own 
observation  by  quoting  the  like  experience  of  others.  He 
also  states  in  all  gravity  that  '  the  shells  wherein  is  bred 
the  barnacle  are  taken  up  in  a  small  island  adjoining  to 
Lancashire,  half  a  mile  from  the  mainland,  called  the 
Pile  of  Foulders.'  Mr.  Lee  says  : — '  The  growth  and 
development  of  the  story  of  "  the  Scythian  Lamb  "  from 
the  similarity  of  appearance  of  two  really  different  objects 
may  be  best  explained  by  comparing  it  with  another 
natural-history  myth  which  ran  curiously  parallel  to  it. 
I  allude  to  the  fable  that  Sir  John  Mandeville  tells  us  he 


58  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

related  to  his  Tartar  acquaintances,  viz.,  that  of  the 
"  Barnacle  Geese,"  which  has  never  been  surpassed  as  a 
specimen  of  ignorant  credulity  and  persistent  error. 

'  From  the  twelfth  to  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury it  was  implicitly  and  almost  universally  believed  that 
in  the  western  islands  of  Scotland  certain  geese,  of  which 
the  nesting-places  were  never  found,  instead  of  being 
hatched  from  eggs,  like  other  birds,  were  bred  from 
"  shell-fish "  which  grew  on  trees.  Upon  the  shores 
where  these  geese  abounded,  pieces  of  timber  and  old 
trunks  of  trees  covered  with  barnacles  were  often  seen, 
which  had  been  stranded  by  the  sea.  From  between  the 
partly  opened  shells  of  the  barnacles  protruded  their 
plumose  cirrhi,  which  in  some  degree  resemble  the 
feathers  of  a  bird.  Hence  arose  the  belief  that  they  con- 
tained real  birds.  The  fishermen  persuaded  themselves 
that  these  birds  within  the  shells  were  the  geese  whose 
origin  they  had  been  previously  unable  to  discover,  and 
that  they  were  thus  bred,  instead  of  being  hatched,  like 
other  birds,  from  eggs.'  Mr.  Lee  states  that  the  old 
botanist  Gerarde  had,  in  1597,  the  audacity  to  assert  that 
he  had  witnessed  the  transformation  of  the  shell-fish  into 
geese.  What  Gerarde  states,  as  I  read  it,  is  that  some- 
thing like  a  bird  fell  out  of  the  shell  into  the  sea,  '  where 
it  gathereth  feathers,  and  groweth  to  a  fowle  bigger  than 
a  mallard  and  lesser  than  a  goose.'  He  distinctly  says 
that  if  it  fell  on  the  ground  it  died. 

The  drawing  of  the  plants  throughout  Gerarde' s  book 
is  more  delicate  and  finished  than  in  Parkinson's. 

1691.  I  have  a  little  gardener's  almanack  of  this  date. 
My  copy  is  the  '8th  edition,  and  has  many  useful 
additions.'  This  book  is  without  illustrations  except 
for  a  frontispiece  of  a  young  man  and  young  woman 
admiring  a  garden  through  a  doorway.  The  woman  is 
attended  by  a  page,  who  is  holding  a  modern-looking  sun- 


MARCH  59 

shade.  This  is  curious,  as  umbrellas  did  not,  I  believe, 
come  into  general  use  till  very  much  later. 

1693.  Evelyn  publishes  his  translation  of  *  The  Corn- 
pleat  Gard'ner,  written  by  the  famous  Monsieur  de  la 
Quintinye,  Chief  Director  of  all  the  Gardens  of  the 
French  King.'  They  must  have  been  wonderful  gardens, 
those  of  Louis  XIV. ;  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  hand- 
coloured  flower  books  in  the  library  of  the  museum  at 
South  Kensington  was  executed  by  order  of  the  king  for 
Madame  de  Montespan.  This  translation  of  Evelyn's 
has  some  interesting  little  illustrations  of  gardens,  plans 
of  beds,  fruit-trees,  pruning,  &c.  The  frontispiece  is  a 
portrait  of  Evelyn  in  a  hideous  wig  of  the  day. 

1710.  I  have  an  English  Herbal  by  William  Salmon, 
doctor  to  Queen  Anne.  It  contains  a  most  fulsome 
dedication  to  the  queen.  The  type  of  man  who  even  in 
that  century  was  capable  of  publishing  such  an  effusion 
would  be  very  likely,  I  think,  to  have  caused  the  death  of 
all  Queen  Anne's  children,  while  quite  convinced  all  the 
time  that  they  died  solely  by  the  will  of  Almighty  God. 
What  a  curious  person  that  Queen  Anne  must  have  been, 
who  allowed  the  great  category  of  persecuting  laws  against 
the  Catholics  in  Ireland  to  be  framed  in  her  reign,  and 
whom  Horace  Walpole  called  *  Goody  Anne,  the  wet- 
nurse  of  the  Church  ' !  The  book  is  purely  medical,  and  is 
supposed  to  be  principally  written  for  the  use  of  doctors, 
but  it  describes  flowering  garden  plants  as  well  as  the 
wild  ones.  It  has  a  large,  coarsely  executed  frontispiece, 
mostly  torn  out  in  my  copy.  The  drawings  of  the  plants 
show  no  artistic  improvement  over  Parkinson's,  but  are 
much  in  the  same  style. 

1739.  '  New  Improvements  of  Planting  and  Gardening, 
both  Phylosophical  and  Practical,  by  Eichard  Bradley.' 
This  is  a  small  book  with  rather  good  copper-plates,  and 
interesting  as  showing  the  researches  and  ideas  of  an 


60  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

intelligent  man  just  previous  to  the  illuminating  of  botany 
through  the  works  of  Linnaeus,  who  in  1739  was  only 
thirty-two.  He  knew  that  earthworms  were  hermaphro- 
dites, but  from  a  text  of  Scripture  he  was  convinced  that 
plants  have  their  seeds  in  themselves,  and  that  every 
plant  contained  in  itself  male  and  female  powers.  The 
common  Aucuba,  so  long  a  puzzle  to  botanists,  only 
received  its  green-leaved  pollen-bearing  mate  from  Japan 
towards  the  middle  of  this  century.  Before  that  it  was 
only  propagated  by  cuttings,  and  never  bore  any  red 
berries.  The  gardening  books  of  the  last  century  are  full 
of  useful  hints,  as  gardening  was  then  practised  and 
written  about  by  men  of  the  highest  education  ;  and  very 
often  this  was  done  solely  for  botanical  and  what  they 
called  '  philosophical '  reasons.  Sometimes  the  childish 
earnestness  of  their  ignorance  concerning  facts  now 
known  to  every  schoolchild  accentuates  the  extraordinary 
advance  and  increased  popularising  of  knowledge  since 
that  day. 

1732.  '  Hortus  Elthamensis,  a  Johanne  Jacobo  Dil- 
lenio,  M.D.'  Two  folio  volumes  published  in  London, 
and  interesting  as  showing  the  general  development  of  the 
improved  power  of  illustrating.  The  plates  are  coloured 
by  hand,  and  contain  many  figures  of  Cape  Aloes,  Gera- 
niums, and  other  African  plants,  either  depicted  with 
their  roots  or  as  growing  out  of  the  ground.  The  text  is 
in  Latin. 

1771.  '  Uitgezochte  Planten,  by  Christ.  Jacob  Trew, 
Georgius  Dionysius  Ehret,  Joh.  Jacob  Haid.'  The 
characteristic  of  this  large  folio  is  that  it  begins  with 
very  fine  separate  portraits  of  the  three  authors.  One 
seems  to  have  been  the  botanist,  one  the  artist,  and  one 
the  engraver.  It  was  brought  out  at  Amsterdam  by  sub- 
scription, as  was  so  common  with  handsome  books  in 
those  days.  The  book  begins  with  a  long  list  of  sub- 


MARCH  6 1 

scribers.  The  flower-plates  are  extremely  fine,  very 
strongly  coloured,  and  as  fresh  and  bright  as  the  day 
they  were  painted,  each  page  being  covered  with  a  sheet 
of  dark-grey  thick  hand-made  paper,  such  as  Turner  loved 
to  sketch  upon.  One  of  the  things  figured  is  the  Japanese 
plant,  Bocconia  cor  data  ('  Plumed  Poppy,'  Eobinson  calls 
it),  which  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of  thinking  a  new 
plant  in  our  gardens.  Many  of  the  plates  are  inter- 
esting and  a  few  remarkable,  and  the  botanical  details 
of  the  flowers  beautifully  drawn,  some  natural  size 
and  some  magnified. 

1771.  'The  Flora  Londinensis,  by  William  Curtis.' 
The  first  number  was  brought  out  by  subscription  on  the 
above  date.  I  have  the  two  volumes  of  the  first  edition. 
It  is  the  handsomes  the  most  artistic,  and  the  best 
drawn  of  any  English  illustrated  botanical  books  I  have 
seen.  I  do  not  know  who  was  the  artist,  but  I  imagine 
not  Curtis  himself.  These  plates  have  some  of  the 
qualities  of  Jacquin's  drawings,  of  which  more  hereafter. 
How  much  they  were  in  communication,  a  not  uncommon 
custom  of  the  time,  I  do  not  know.  Curtis's  first  book 
was  a  translation  of  Linnaeus's,  with  the  title  of  '  An 
Introduction  to  the  Knowledge  of  Insects.' 

In  1773  Curtis  was  appointed  lecturer  of  the  Chelsea 
Garden.  The  plates  of  '  The  Flora  Londinensis '  are  lovely 
large  folio,  and  most  delicately  drawn  and  tinted.  The 
text  is  in  English,  and  is  descriptive  of  the  wild  flowers 
and  plants  growing  round  London.  No  doubt  the  book 
was  suggested  to  Curtis  by  Vaillant's  '  Catalogue  of  Plants 
in  the  Environs  of  Paris.'  It  retains  strongly  the  Herbal 
character,  and  the  medical  details  of  diseases  are  weird 
and  extraordinary.  The  decision  and  particularity  of 
the  assurance  that  every  disease  to  which  flesh  is  heir 
will  be  relieved  by  the  use  of  certain  plants  are  quite 
surprising.  The  place  where  the  innocent  little  wild 


62  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

plants  are  picked  is  always  named,  and  it  is  pathetic 
to  think  of  the  growth  of  the  city,  and  how  the  places 
mentioned  are  now  densely  covered  with  buildings  and 
streets.  The  second  edition,  in  five  or  six  volumes, 
finished  by  Dr.  Hooker,  is  far  the  more  valuable  and 
complete.  Curtis  began  his  'Botanical  Magazine,  or 
Flower  Garden  Displayed'  in  1778.  I  have  the  first 
sixty-seven  volumes  of  this  lovely  and  best  known  of  all 
the  Old  English  gardening  publications.  It  is  purely 
horticultural.  Every  alternate  page  is  an  illustration, 
with  the  letterpress  on  the  opposite  side  describing  the 
nature  of  the  plant,  the  country  from  which  it  comes, 
and  its  cultivation  here.  With  the  same  truthful  accuracy 
with  which  he  tells  the  home  of  the  wild  plant,  he  names 
the  nurseryman  or  amateur  who  has  flowered  the  exotic. 
The  best  drawings  by  far  are  in  the  early  numbers,  and 
were  executed  by  Sowerby.  The  two  who  succeeded 
him  were  Sydenham  Edwards  and  Dr.  Hooker.  Spode, 
the  man  who  perfected  the  process  of  mixing  bone-dust 
into  the  paste  used  for  china  in  the  early  part  of  this 
century,  used  these  illustrations  a  good  deal  for  his  pretty 
china  dinner  and  dessert  services,  with  the  names  of  the 
flowers  or  plants  marked  at  the  back  of  the  dishes. 

1791.  '  The  Loves  of  the  Plants,  in  two  parts :  The 
Botanic  Garden  and  the  Economy  of  Vegetation.  A  Poem 
by  Erasmus  Darwin,'  seems  to  me  one  of  the  real 
curiosities  of  literature.  It  is  unique,  so  far  as  I  know, 
in  its  sincere  desire  to  clothe  the  latest  science  in  the 
garb  of  the  Muse.  The  frontispiece,  by  Fuseli,  is  a 
drawing  most  characteristic  of  that  artist  and  full  of  all 
his  affectations.  Flora,  attired  by  the  elements,  is  a 
striking  example  of  the  fashion  and  bad  taste  of  the  day, 
and  yet  it  is  full  of  ingenuity  and  skill  in  drawing.  This 
frontispiece  is  well  worth,  by  itself,  the  price  I  gave  for 
the  whole  volume.  Another  print  in  the  book,  by  the 


MARCH  63 

same  artist,  is  called  '  The  Fertilisation  of  Egypt,'  mean- 
ing, of  course,  the  rising  of  the  Nile.  A  huge  unclothed 
man  with  a  dog's  head  is  praying  to  the  star  Sirius. 
A  note  explains  this  by  saying  '  the  Abb6  La  Pluche 
observes  that  as  Sirius,  or  the  Dog-star,  rose  at  the  time 
of  the  commencement  of  the  Hood,  its  rising  was  watched 
by  the  Astronomers  and  notice  given  of  the  approach  of 
the  inundation  by  hanging  the  figure  of  Anubis,  which 
was  that  of  a  man  with  a  dog's  head,  in  all  the  Egyptian 
temples.'  Erasmus  Darwin's  mind  was  evidently  fasci- 
nated, as  was  common  with  all  the  scientific  men  of  the 
day,  by  the  fertilisation  of  plants.  In  one  of  his  notes  he 
says,  '  The  vegetable  passion  of  love  is  agreeably  seen  in 
the  flower  of  the  Parnassia  (Grass  of  Parnassus),  in  which 
the  males  alternately  approach  and  recede  from  the  female' 
(a  practice  not  wholly  unknown  to  many  beside  the 
innocent  Parnassia), '  and  in  the  flower  of  Nigella.'  We 
call  it  now  Love-in-the-Mist, '  in  which  the  tall  females 
bend  down  to  their  dwarf  husbands'  (a  picture  some- 
times seen  in  modern  drawing-rooms).  Darwin  goes  on 
to  say,  '  I  was  surprised  this  morning  to  observe,  amongst 
Sir  Brooke  Boothby's  valuable  collection  of  plants  at 
Ashbourne,  the  manifest  adultery  of  several  females  of 
the  plant  Collinsonia,  who  had  bent  themselves  into 
contact  with  the  males  of  the  same  plant  in  their  vicinity, 
neglectful  of  their  own.'  The  plate  and  note  of  Gloriosa 
superba  I  have  mentioned  elsewhere.  As  an  outcome  of 
the  extraordinary  effect  of  Linnseus's  work  on  thinking 
minds  at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  the  book  is  of  great- 
interest,  though  we  should  not  call  it  poetry  in  the  modern 
sense.  Erasmus  Darwin  was  the  grandfather  of  our 
great  Darwin,  who  did  for  the  middle  of  this  century  so 
much  more  than  even  Linnaeus  did  for  the  end  of  the  last. 
1778.  '  Miscellanea  Austriaca,  by  Nicolai  Joseph! 
Jacquin.'  This  is  the  earliest  Jacquin  book  that  I  have. 


64     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

It  is  in  two  small  volumes  of  note-books,  with  all  the 
illustrations  at  the  end.  The  text  is  in  Latin  ;  but  this  is 
of  no  consequence,  as  Jacquin's  books  are  all  botanical, 
not  horticultural,  and  their  botany  is  obsolete.  This 
remarkable  man,  Nicholas  Joseph  Jacquin,  whose  in- 
dustry must  have  been  untiring,  was  born  at  Leyden  in 
1727,  and  educated  there  at  the  University  for  the  medical 
profession.  This  meant  in  those  days  the  highest 
botanical  education  which  could  be  obtained.  He  went  to 
Vienna,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  friend,  to  practise  medicine, 
but  when  there  his  great  botanical  knowledge  brought 
him  to  the  notice  of  Francis  I.  This  emperor  seems  to 
have  been  a  great  patron  of  botany  and  gardening,  the 
fashionable  combination  of  the  day.  He  sent  Jacquin  to 
the  West  Indies  for  six  years  to  collect  plants  for  the 
Schonbrunn  Gardens,  paying  his  expenses.  Jacquin  did 
not  die  till  1817,  leaving  an  unfinished  work,  '  Eclogse 
Plantarum  Eariorum/  the  only  one  of  Jacquin's  books 
that  has  a  German  as  well  as  a  Latin  text.  The  second 
volume  was  not  published  till  1844,  by  Edouardus  Fenzl, 
long  after  Jacquin's  death.  The  colour  and  painting  are 
very  inferior  to  Jacquin's  work.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
last  century,  in  the  midst  of  wars  and  revolutions,  the 
crumbling  of  old  methods  of  government  and  the  change 
of  social  customs,  an  extraordinary  band  of  able  men  all 
over  Europe  were  quietly  working  in  concert  and  with 
constant  communication.  Their  object  was  to  increase 
the  knowledge  of  the  science  of  botany  by  reproducing, 
with  the  greatest  botanical  exactness  of  detail,  the  plants 
imported  from  all  parts  of  the  world  as  they  flowered  in 
Europe  for  the  first  time  in  the  various  greenhouses  and 
stoves.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  books  of  this  period, 
even  of  different  countries,  very  rarely  illustrate  the  same 
plants.  The  botanical  curiosity,  the  feeling  of  something 
new,  rare,  and  not  fully  understood,  which  is  such  an 


MARCH  65 

incentive  to  the  human  mind,  has  gone  for  ever  as  far 
as  this  kind  of  simple  botany  is  concerned.  Of  these 
highly  gifted  men,  who  worked  on  lines  which  can  no 
more  be  repeated  than  the  missals  of  the  sixteenth 
century  in  Italy,  Jacquin,  no  doubt,  was  the  most  artist- 
ically interesting.  No  one  who  has  not  seen  his  works 
can  realise  the  beauty,  the  delicacy,  the  truth,  the  detail 
to  which  flower-painting  can  be  brought.  None  of  the 
other  flower-painters  that  I  know  show  anything  like  the 
same  talent  of  throwing  the  flower  on  to  the  paper  with 
endless  variety,  and  of  adapting  the  design  to  the  size 
and  growth  of  the  particular  plant.  This  result  seems 
produced  by  his  botanical  exactness,  and  not,  apparently, 
by  any  intention  to  make  a  beautiful  picture.  No  two 
pages  are  ever  filled  in  the  same  way.  This  does  away 
entirely  with  the  ordinary  wearisome  monotony  of  turning 
over  drawings  one  after  the  other,  with  the  flower  right  in 
the  middle  of  the  page.  His  books  fetch  a  considerable 
price,  and  are  difficult  to  procure.  The  one  I  sometimes 
see  in  English  catalogues  is  in  my  possession,  five  volumes 
of  '  Collectanea  ad  Botanicam  Chemiam  et  Historiam 
naturalem,  1786.'  My  copy  was  a  surplus  one  at  the  British 
Museum,  of  which  it  bears  the  stamp  and  date  of  sale, 
1831.  The  plates  maintain  their  usual  excellence  and 
are  nearly  all  coloured,  with  a  brilliancy  that  has  not 
suffered  at  all  from  time.  Some  are  of  wild  flowers, 
mosses,  Lycopodiums,  insects,  and  serpents.  All  Jacquin's 
drawings  stand  out  wonderfully  on  the  paper,  but  there 
is  no  shading,  except  that  the  modelling  is  indicated  by  a 
stronger  tone  of  the  same  colour  ;  and  the  relief  and  value, 
without  any  tinting  of  the  background,  are  most  effective. 
In  the  case  of  the  bushy  little  Alpines  the  plant  is  spread 
out  like  seaweed  and  the  root  drawn,  which  gives  the 
whole  growth  and  proportion  of  the  plant. 

1793.  '  Oxalis  Monographia '  is   an  exquisite  study  of 


66     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

about  a  hundred  Oxalises.  Nearly  all  the  plates  are 
coloured.  Most  of  these  delicate  little  plants  with  their 
bulbous  roots  come  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  Jacquin 
seems  to  have  had  a  peculiar  affection  for  them,  as,  besides 
this  monograph,  he  constantly  figures  them  in  his  mis- 
cellaneous works.  I  have  often  tried  to  procure  his  book 
on  Stapelias,  also  a  large  family  of  Cape  plants  rather 
like  small  Cactuses,  but  have  never  been  able  to  do  so, 
and  have  only  seen  it  at  the  Museum. 

1797-1804.  'Plantarum  Eariorum  Horti  Caesarei 
Schoenbrunnensis.'  These  four  superb  folios,  containing 
five  hundred  spotless  plates  by  Jacquin,  represent  some 
of  his  very  finest  work.  The  plates  are  all  coloured,  in  a 
much  stronger  and  more  finished  way  than  in  his  other 
books.  Some  of  the  plates  are  folded  and  larger  than  the 
book,  and  others  extend  across  the  whole  width  of  the 
book.  As  an  example  of  the  richness  of  the  plates  I 
will  describe  one  taken  at  random,  which  he  calls  Vitis 
vulpina.  The  shoot  of  the  vine  starts  from  a  short  piece 
of  stronger  branch  at  the  very  top  of  the  page,  and  curves 
to  the  bottom,  turning  up  at  the  end  with  young  leaves 
and  tendrils.  This  young  shoot  has  two  bunches  of  the 
flower  as  it  appears  in  spring.  Quite  at  the  top,  on  the 
right,  is  a  detached  autumn  leaf  turning  red,  and  drawn 
from  the  back  with  every  vein  showing.  Half-way  down, 
on  the  left,  is  a  bunch  of  ripe  purple  grapes ;  with  one  pip, 
drawn  life-size,  at  the  side.  Below  this  is  a  single  flower, 
highly  magnified,  with  a  drawing  apart  showing  pistil  and 
stamen.  There  are  ten  life-sized  leaves  on  the  branch, 
and  the  whole  is  contained  on  an  unfolded  plate.  A  short 
botanical  description  of  each  plant  is  added  in  Latin. 
The  hand-made  paper  on  which  these  plates  are  printed 
puts  to  shame  all  that  we  now  produce.  Many  of  the 
plants  are  named  differently  from  what  they  are  now. 
To  those  who  have  never  seen  Jacquin's  works  these 


MARCH  67 

volumes  are  an  absolute  revelation.  At  the  same  time 
his  genius  will  always  appeal  more  to  the  artistic  than  to 
the  scientific  mind,  although  in  the  biographical  notices 
of  him  that  I  have  seen  he  is  only  mentioned  as  a  doctor 
and  a  botanist.  At  the  Natural  History  Museum  is  a 
large  and  much-valued  collection  of  his  letters  and  original 
drawings. 

1794.  '  Thirty-eight  Plates  with  explanations,  intended 
to  illustrate  Linnaeus'  system  of  vegetables,  and  par- 
ticularly adapted  to  the  letters  on  the  elements  of  Botany. 
By  Thomas  Martin,  Kegius  Professor  of  Botany  in  the 
University  of  Cambridge.'  These  plates  are  beautifully 
drawn,  and  exemplify  very  well  the  careful  draughtsman- 
ship of  a  botanist  of  the  day.  They  are  most  faithfully 
hand  coloured,  and  are  only  inferior  to  the  best  from  a 
little  want  of  gradation. 

1794.  I  have  the  '  Life  of  Sir  Charles  Linnaeus,  by 
D.  H.  Stoever,  translated  from  the  original  German  by 
Joseph  Trapp.'  It  is,  I  believe,  the  only  biography  of  him 
ever  written.  To  this  is  added  a  copious  list  of  his  works 
and  a  biographical  sketch  of  his  son,  whose  life  is  an  in- 
teresting example  of  talents  shared  by  a  father  and  son. 
The  son,  who  died  unmarried  at  the  early  age  of  forty-one, 
seems  to  have  been  a  brilliant  and  much-loved  individual. 
Trapp  dedicates  his  translation  to  the  Linnaean  Society 
of  London.  It  contains  a  portrait  of  the  elder  Linnaeus, 
a  cheerful,  bright,  up-looking  profile,  with  the  curly  wig 
of  the  day,  and  a  large  branch  stuck  in  his  buttonhole,  as 
was  not  uncommon  in  the  portraits  of  botanists.  He  was 
born  in  1707,  was  the  son  of  a  Swedish  minister,  and  the 
grandson  of  a  peasant.  His  industry  and  energy  must 
have  been  exceptional,  and  he  chose  truth  as  his  guide. 
His  first  book  was  the  '  Flora  of  Lapland,'  which  was 
perhaps  the  reason  why  that  little  Northern  flower,  Linnea 
borealis,  is  the  plant  that  has  received  his  great  name. 

F  2 


68  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

He  married  at  twenty- seven,  and  his  father-in-law  seems 
to  have  put  small  faith  in  his  botany,  and  advised  him 
to  apply  himself  more  exclusively  to  the  theoretical  and 
practical  study  of  physic.  After  his  marriage  he  made 
money  as  a  doctor  in  Stockholm,  and  it  is  not  otherwise 
than  interesting  to  know  that  when  attacked  with  very 
severe  gout  at  forty-three,  and  the  doctors  who  attended 
him  began  to  despair  of  his  recovery,  he  cured  himself  by 
eating  nothing  but  Strawberries  for  a  time.  Afterwards 
he  kept  the  gout  entirely  in  check  by  taking  a  Strawberry 
cure  every  summer.  In  several  ways  the  book  gives  an 
interesting  picture  of  life  in  the  last  century.  Linnaeus's 
books  are  characterised  by  religious  sentiment,  neverthe- 
less they  had  the  misfortune  of  being  considered  at  Eome 
as  heretical  and  materialistic  productions.  In  1758  they 
were  inserted  in  the  catalogue  of  forbidden  books  ;  no  one 
durst  either  print  or  sell  them  under  pain  of  having  every 
copy  confiscated  or  publicly  burnt.  This  proceeding 
was  implicitly  condemned  during  the  papacy  of  the 
excellent  and  truly  enlightened  Ganganelli,  Pope  Clement 
XIV.  Linnaeus  himself  mentions  this  occurrence  in  a  letter 
to  the  Chevalier  Thunberg  in  the  following  terms  : — '  The 
Pope,  who  fifteen  years  ago  ordered  those  of  my  works 
that  should  be  imported  into  his  dominions  to  be  burnt, 
has  dismissed  the  Professor  of  Botany  who  did  not 
understand  my  system,  and  put  another  in  his  place,  who 
is  to  give  public  lectures  according  to  my  method  and 
theory.' 

1797.  '  The  Botanist's  Eepository,  by  H.  Andrews.' 
This  is  a  rare  book,  I  believe,  and  ought  to  be  in  ten 
quarto  volumes.  I  have  only  the  first  eight.  It  contains 
coloured  engravings  only  of  new  and  rare  plants,  many  of 
which  cannot,  I  think,  have  flowered  in  England,  as  there 
are  several  Proteas,  which  are  exceedingly  difficult  of 
cultivation  under  glass,  Andrews'  great  fondness  for 


MARCH  69 

plants  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  makes  one  almost 
think  he  must  have  been  there — Gladioli,  Ixias,  and 
curious  Cape  Pelargoniums,  which  are  the  parents  of  all 
our  greenhouse  varieties.  On  the  bottom  of  the  title- 
page  is  a  charming  little  drawing  of  that  humble  plant  the 
Linnea  borealis  ('  Twin  Flower,'  Mr.  Eobinson  calls  it), 
which  I  have  never  yet  been  lucky  enough  to  flower. 
The  design  represents  two  little  flowering  branches  raised 
on  either  side  like  two  arms.  1  feel  much  drawn  to  the 
man  Andrews,  who  so  skilfully  placed  it  there,  just  a 
hundred  years  ago,  to  do  honour  to  his  great  master. 
Andrews'  other  book  is  '  The  Heathery,  or  a  Monograph 
of  the  Genus  Erica.'  Again  I  have  only  the  small  edition 
published  in  1804.  The  folio  one  is  very  scarce.  This  is 
a  pretty,  interesting  book,  with  moderately  well-drawn 
plates,  coloured  by  hand.  The  Heaths  are  such  a  large 
family,  and  nearly  all  apparently  come  from  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope.  I  cannot  understand  why  people  who  have 
several  greenhouses  should  not  grow  more  of  these 
charming  plants.  They  require  a  certain  amount  of 
special  treatment,  a  very  cool  house  and  plenty  of  air.  It 
seems  such  a  pity  that  private  gardeners  only  care  to 
grow  the  few  plants  which  they  can  exhibit  for  competi- 
tion— markedly,  just  now,  Orchids  and  Chrysanthemums. 
These  Cape  Heaths  look  lovely  picked  and  wedged,  or 
growing  in  the  greenhouse,  and,  I  should  imagine,  would 
do  especially  well  in  houses  by  the  sea.  On  the  frontis- 
piece of  his  book  Andrews  has  a  quaint  picture  of  a 
greenhouse  for  growing  his  Heaths. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  I  will  tell  you  about 
those  of  my  books  which  belong  to  this  century. 


70  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


APEIL 

Whims  of  the  weather — Spring  flowers — The  herbaceous  nursery — 
Love  for  the  garden— A  light  sprayer-  Homely  French  receipts 
— French  gardening — The  late  frosts. 

April  2nd. — We  came  down  to  our  little  Surrey  garden, 
only  sixteen  miles  from  London,  for  good  yesterday ;  and 
though  the  wind  be  ever  so  cold  and  the  skies  ever  so  grey, 
I  yet  feel  that  that  which  makes  going  to  London  worth 
while  is  the  joy  of  coming  back  again.  The  ceaseless 
interest  of  a  garden  of  this  sort  is  in  the  variety,  not  only 
of  the  plants,  but  in  the  actual  growth  caused  by  the 
different  seasons.  This  year  the  winter  has  been  very 
mild,  and  dry  too,  which  is  unusual — and  then  came  a 
very  wet  March,  such  as  I  do  not  remember  since  we  have 
lived  in  Surrey,  these  fourteen  years.  It  is  really  amusing 
to  watch  all  that  happens  consequent  on  these  whims  of 
the  weather  ;  the  early  and  late,  the  wet  and  the  dry, 
all  making  immense  difference  in  the  plants.  Some  are 
successful  one  year,  and  some  another. 

Nothing  is  more  charming  just  now  than  theForsythias. 
They  are  absolutely  hardy,  but  they  flower  best  on  walls, 
even  a  north  one,  as  the  birds  are  extremely  fond  of  the 
buds  and  can  get  at  them  much  better  when  the  plant  is 
grown  as  a  bush.  The  birds  always  seem  to  be  extra- 
ordinarily destructive  in  this  garden  ;  but  I  see  that  most 
gardeners,  in  their  books,  make  the  same  complaint,  and 
rather  apologise  to  the  common-sense  of  their  readers  for 
cherishing  and  feeding  instead  of  destroying  them.  In 


APRIL  7I 

my  garden  I  hang  up  on  the  trees,  the  pump,  or  shaded 
railings,  little  boxes  with  part  of  one  side  cut  out  for  the 
birds  to  build  in,  and  with  lids  that  lift  up  for  me  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  looking  at  them.  The  fact  is,  birds  do 
quite  as  much  good  as  narm,  though  the  harm  is  the  more 
apparent ;  and  who  would  have  a  garden  without  song  ? 

The  Crown  Imperials  are  in  full  flower.  They,  like 
many  other  bulbs  in  this  light  soil,  reproduce  themselves 
so  quickly  that  they  want  to  be  constantly  lifted,  the 
small  bulbs  taken  away  and  put  in  a  nursery  (if  you  wish 
to  increase  your  stock),  and  the  large  ones  replaced,  in  a 
good  bed  of  manure,  where  you  want  them  to  flower  the 
following  year.  It  is  best,  if  possible,  to  do  this  in  June, 
when  the  leaves  have  died  down,  but  not  quite  disappeared 
so  that  the  place  is  lost ;  one  can,  however,  always  find 
them  in  the  autumn  by  their  strong  smell  when  the  earth 
is  moved  beside  them. 

The  orange  Crown  Imperials  do  best  here,  so,  of 
coarse,  I  feel  proudest  of  the  pale  yellow.  Both  colours 
are  unusually  good  this  year.  In  my  youth  they  were 
rather  sniffed  at  and  called  a  cottage  plant.  I  wonder  if 
anyone  who  thought  them  vulgar  ever  took  the  trouble  to 
pick  off  one  of  the  down-hanging  bells  and  turn  it  up  to 
see  the  six  drops  of  clear  water  in  the  six  white  cups 
with  black  rims?  I  know  nothing  prettier  or  more 
curious  amongst  flowers  than  this.  I  have  not  got  the 
white  one,  but  must  try  and  get  it ;  I  am  told  it  is  very 
pretty,  and  so  it  must  be,  I  should  think.  The  lovely 
little  Omphalodes  verna  ('  Blue-eyed  Mary,'  Mr.  Robinson 
calls  it)  is  in  flower  under  my  trees.  The  soil  is  too  dry 
for  it  to  flourish  very  successfully,  and  yet  it  is  always 
worth  growing  everywhere.  Next  year  I  shall  try  lifting 
it  in  March  and  putting  it  into  pots.  The  great  thing 
is  to  remember  that  it  divides  and  propagates  much  better 
in  early  spring  than  in  autumn.  The  graceful,  pale  grey 


72  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

anemone  Hobinsomana  is  doing  better  this  year.  Now 
that  it  has  taken  hold,  I  hope  it  may  spread. 

All  the  early  tulips  and  some  of  the  later  are  out ; 
what  delicious  things  they  are  !  None  are  better  than 
Gesneriana  greigi  and  sylvestris.  The  beautiful  Parrot 
Tulips  will  come  later.  Ornithogalum  nutans  is  a  weed 
most  people  dread  to  get  into  their  borders,  and  not  un- 
naturally ;  but  if  put  in  a  place  where  spreading  does  no 
harm,  or  planted  in  grass,  where  it  does  not  flourish  very 
much,  it  is  a  bulb  well  worth  growing.  It  blooms  better 
if  divided  every  two  or  three  years.  The  flowers  are  very 
lovely  when  cut,  and,  like  all  their  tribe,  they  last  well  in 
water,  looking  most  refined  and  uncommon,  and  are  es- 
pecially good  to  send  to  London.  I  do  not  make  many 
remarks  here  on  the  lovely  family  of  spring  bulbs — Tulips, 
Scillas,  Hyacinths,  Daffodils,  and  Narcisses — for  the  same 
reason  that  I  passed  casually  over  the  forced  ones  in 
February.  We  can  all  grow  these  easily  enough  by  mark- 
ing the  catalogue  and  paying  the  bill.  Anybody  who 
does  not  understand  their  cultivation  will  find  every  detail 
on  the  subject  in  the  older  gardening  books,  as  I  have 
stated  before.  Of  all  the  Dutch  nurserymen  from  whom  I 
have  bought  bulbs,  J.  J.  Thoolen  at  Overveen,  near  Haarlem, 
is  the  cheapest,  though  I  do  not  say  that  he  is  better  or 
worse  than  any  other.  In  my  experience,  all  the  finer 
kinds  of  bulbs  are  better  for  taking  up  in  June  or  July, 
well  dried  in  the  sun,  and  planted  again  in  September. 
When  they  are  planted  in  grass  they  must,  of  course,  be 
left  alone  to  take  their  chance.  Nothing  can  be  more 
delightful  than  the  spring  bulbs.  I  grow  them  in  every 
way  I  can — in  pots,  in  beds,  in  borders,  and  in  the  grass. 

Besides  the  Bulbs,  the  Arums,  and  the  Azaleas,  I  have 
in  the  little  greenhouse  next  the  drawing-room  several 
very  pretty  Primula  sieboldii :  they  remain  in  the  frames 
in  pots  during  the  summer,  to  die  down  entirely,  and  are 


APRIL  73 

re-potted  in  the  autumn.  They  are  hardy,  and  will  grow 
out  of  doors,  but  the  blooms  do  not  then  reach  to  such 
perfection.  There  is  a  large  box  filled  with  the  last  of 
the  Neapolitan  Violets  and  a  pan  of  Saxifraga  wallacei, 
one  of  the  most  effective  of  the  smaller  Saxifrages.  I 
never  succeeded  with  it  out  of  doors  till  I  divided  it  in 
June,  planting  it  in  the  shade,  and  in  October  I  replaced 
it  in  the  sunny  bed  for  spring  flowering.  In  that  way 
it  can  be  increased  to  any  amount.  This  treatment  I 
pursue  with  many  plants  : — Heuchera  sanguined,  one  of 
the  most  precious  of  the  Canadian  flowers,  and  the 
best  worth  cultivating,  especially  in  small  gardens.  The 
pretty  Saxifraga  granulata  flore  pleno  disappeared  year 
after  year  till  treated  more  or  less  in  this  way.  In  June, 
when  the  leaves  die  down,  the  little  bulblets  are  taken  up 
and  planted  in  groups  in  a  shady  place.  They  make 
their  leaves  in  October,  when  it  is  easy  to  move  them 
back  into  the  border  or  onto  the  rockery  where  they  are 
to  flower.  The  double  flower  is  of  a  very  pure  white, 
and  its  long  stalk  adapts  it  well  for  glass  vases  and  table 
decoration.  The  large  sweet-smelling  double  white 
Rocket,  which  I  mentioned  before  as  growing  so  well  in 
the  damp  Hertfordshire  garden,  defeated  me  altogether 
for  some  years  ;  it  made  a  fair  growth  of  leaves,  but  never 
flowered.  Now  it  succeeds  perfectly.  After  flowering,  we 
break  it  up,  put  it  into  a  shady  place,  and  replant  it  in 
the  borders  in  the  autumn.  All  this  sounds  very  trouble- 
some, but  it  is  really  not  so  at  all,  as  it  is  so  quickly  done. 
The  only  trouble  is  remembering  when  to  do  the  things  ; 
but  that  soon  comes  with  practice,  and  the  time  of  year 
always  recalls  what  was  done  the  year  before  to  the  true 
gardener.  Everybody  recognises  this  treatment  as 
necessary  for  violets,  double  and  single — which,  indeed, 
do  not  flower  well  without  it.  The  invaluable  Imanto- 
phyllums,  which  began  to  flower  in  the  warm  greenhouse 


74  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

in  January,  are  doing  so  still :  so  are  the  Arums, 
which  people  insist  on  calling  'Lilies.'  They  are  not 
lilies  at  all,  but  belong  to  the  same  family  as  the  '  Lords 
and  Ladies '  and  '  Cuckoo  Pint '  of  our  hedges.  The 
large  greenhouse  Arums  come  from  the  Cape,  where  they 
are  an  absolute  weed,  appearing  wherever  the  ground  is 
disturbed  or  turned  up.  They  are  there  called  Pig  Lilies, 
perhaps  because  they  feed  the  pigs  on  the  roots.  In  the 
damp  places,  I  am  told,  they  are  magnificent,  growing 
finer  and  larger  than  they  ever  do  in  pots  in  England ; 
at  the  same  time,  when  they  come  up  in  dry  and  heathy 
places,  they  are  perfect  miniature  plants  with  delicate 
little  flowers  like  shells.  Arums  in  pots  require  lots  of 
water  while  growing  and  flowering,  and  are  better  for  a 
saucer  to  hold  it. 

A  beautiful  crimson  Amaryllis,  which  I  brought  back 
from  Guernsey  some  years  ago,  is  in  flower.  It  has  never 
flowered  before  ;  but  we  understand  so  much  better  than 
we  did  the  drying  and  ripening  in  the  sun  of  all  the  Cape 
bulbs,  and  this  makes  the  whole  difference  to  their 
flowering. 

April  3rd. — This  is  the  time  of  year  when  we  make  up 
our  nursery,  which  I  consider  one  of  the  most  important 
gardening  acts  of  the  whole  year,  and  one  most  fruitful 
in  results.  We  take  up,  from  wherever  they  happen  to 
have  been  left  last  autumn,  herbaceous  Phloxes,  early 
outdoor  Chrysanthemums,  and  Michaelmas  Daisies. 
These  are  broken  up  into  small  pieces,  according  to  the 
number  of  plants  that  are  likely  to  be  wanted  in  the 
borders  or  to  give  away,  and  planted  in  rows  in  a  half- 
shady  corner  of  the  kitchen  garden.  Here  they  are  left 
to  grow  and  increase  till  some  wet  day  in  July,  when 
they  are  planted  in  bold  masses  where  they  are  to 
flower.  They  really  move  better  in  dry  weather  than  in 
wet,  and  I  say  a  wet  day  merely  because  it  reduces  the 


APRIL  75 

trouble  of  watering,  which  is  all  the  attention  they 
require.  They  fill  up  bare  places  and  holes  in  the 
borders,  and  flower  as  they  never  did  with  us  in  the 
old  days  when  they  were  left  alone.  This  treatment 
especially  suits  the  Phloxes,  which  is  curious,  as  they 
are  moved  when  just  coming  into  flower.  The  rows  in 
the  spring  must  be  labelled  with  the  names  and  colours, 
as  the  different  hues  of  the  flowers  war  with  each  other 
if  promiscuously  massed.  The  Michaelmas  Daisies 
flower  earlier  in  this  way  than  when  left  to  starve  in  a 
dry  border  or  shrubbery,  but  one  can  always  leave  some 
in  unfavourable  places  to  flower  late. 

April  ±fh. — All  the  Linums  and  Linarias  (see  Mr. 
Eobinson's  book)  are  useful  for  house  and  table  decora- 
tion, and  are  very  suitable  for  small  gardens.  The 
common  blue  Flax  is  a  lovely  thing;  so  is  the  white 
French  Willow- weed  (Epilobium),  which  is  most  useful, 
and  flowers  earlier  in  the  year  than  the  common  lilac 
one. 

As  a  single  plant,  for  beauty  of  growth  and  foliage 
there  are  few  things  as  lovely  as  the  common  Hemp 
plant  (Cannabis  sativa).  It  is  an  annual,  easily  grown  in 
April  in  a  pot  or  box,  and  planted  out. 

In  gardening,  as  in  most  things,  it  is  thought  that  is 
really  required,  and  that  wonderful  thing  which  is  called 
'  a  blind  god ' — love.  But  blind  love  is  mere  passion. 
Eeal  love  in  every  form,  even  towards  animals  and 
plants,  is  watchful  and  ever  seeing,  never  missing  for  a 
moment  what  is  for  the  good  and  the  advantage  of  the 
beloved.  In  walking  round  and  round  the  garden,  with 
a  practised  eye  one  soon  sees  when  a  plant  is  getting 
on  well  or  the  contrary.  When  a  plant  is  doing  badly,  it 
means  the  conditions  are  unfavourable,  and  it  is  then 
our  duty  to  find  out  why.  In  my  garden  the  usual 
cause  of  failure  is  dryness,  and  many  and  many  a  plant 


76  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

has  been  saved,  since  I  understood  this,  by  a  timely 
mulching  or  a  good  can  of  water.  When  things  are 
coming  into  flower,  especially  early  Alpines,  Gentians, 
etc.,  it  is  quite  safe  to  water,  even  in  cold  weather,  early 
in  the  year.  Do  they  not  flourish  where  the  ice-water 
drips  upon  them  from  the  first  melting  of  the  snows 
under  the  spring  sun  ?  Early  spring  plants  do  badly  in 
our  soil ;  but  were  I  there,  to  watch  and  to  water  just 
at  the  right  time,  I  feel  sure  they  would  look  more 
flourishing. 

A  most  beautiful  light  sprayer  for  watering  small 
plants  is  easily  made  in  the  following  way : — Take  a 
piece  of  sheet  zinc  five  or  six  inches  long  and  four  or 
five  inches  wide.  Cut  a  piece  half  an  inch  wide  on  each 
side  of  the  zinc  to  within  an  inch  of  the  middle,  so 
making  a  little  band  attached  to  the  main  piece,  and  fold 
this  tightly  round  the  spout  of  the  watering-pot ;  bend  the 
zinc  sprayer  upwards  in  the  middle  in  a  way  to  enable 
the  water  from  the  pot  to  flow  over  it  in  a  continuous 
sheet. 

Sorrel  is  a  vegetable  seldom  grown  in  English 
gardens,  and  still  seldomer  properly  dressed  by  English 
cooks,  and  yet  it  is  excellent,  either  cut  up  in  the  white 
soup  called  'Bonne  femme,'  dressed  like  Spinach,  or 
puree'd  as  thin  as  a  thick  sauce.  With  veal,  cooked  in 
all  ways,  it  is  especially  good.  When  the  summer  gets 
on  and  it  is  old,  it  is  desirable  to  add  a  little  Lettuce 
with  it  to  soften  it,  as  it  gets  too  sour.  It  is  one  of  those 
vegetables  never  quite  so  good  in  towns,  as  it  is  best 
freshly  picked,  and  if  faded  should  be  revived  in  water 
before  cooking.  The  receipts  for  cooking  it  in  '  Dainty 
Dishes '  are  quite  right. 

For  those  who  keep  cows,  or  who  can  have  plenty  of 
good  fresh  cream,  the  following,  I  think,  will  be  found  a 
really  excellent  pudding : — 


APRIL 


77 


Creme  Brftl^e. — Boil  one  pint  of  cream  for  one 
minute,  pour  it  on  the  yelks  of  four  very  fresh  eggs  well 
beaten,  then  put  it  again  on  the  fire  and  let  it  just  come 
to  the  boil.  Pour  it  into  the  dish  in  which  it  is  to  be 
served,  and  let  it  get  cold.  Strew  a  thick  crust  of 
powdered  sugar  over  it,  put  it  in  a  slow  oven  for  ten 
minutes,  then  brown  it  with  a  salamander,  and  serve  it 
cold.  j 

April  5th. — We  started  to-day  to  spend  a  week  in  a 
French  country  house,  sleeping  one  night  on  our  way  at 
beautiful  Chartres,  which,  as  I  am  not  writing  a  guide- 
book, I  shall  not  describe.  The  weather  was  bitterly  cold ; 
and  when  we  humbly  asked  at  the  hotel  for  some  hot 
water,  the  answer  we  got  was  '  On  n'dchauffe  plus.' 
The  French  submit  more  meekly  than  we  do  to  this 
kind  of  regulation,  which  is  curious,  as  they  are  so 
much  more  sensible,  as  a  rule,  than  we  are  in  most  of 
the  details  of  life.  I  was  interested  to  see  in  the  small 
court  of  the  hotel  a  quantity  of  most  flourishing  Hepat- 
icas.  These  flowers,  Mr.  Bright  tells  us,  defeated  all 
his  efforts  in  his  Lancashire  garden.  I  have  tried  them 
in  various  aspects,  but  they  make  a  sorry  show  with 
me  in  Surrey.  In  this  little  back-yard  they  shone  in  the 
sunshine,  pink  and  blue,  double  and  single.  I  suppose 
the  secret  is  that  they  do  not  mind  cold,  but  they  want 
sun.  I  wonder  if  anyone  is  very  successful  with  them 
in  England  ?  How  I  remember  them,  in  the  days  of  my 
youth,  pushing  through  the  dead  leaves  in  the  little  oak 
woods  in  the  valleys  up  the  country  behind  Nice,  then,  as 
now,  *  Le  pays  du  Soleil,'  but  probably  long  since  all 
changed  into  villas  and  gardens  instead  of  woods  and 
fields. 

A  French  country  house  !  How  different  it  all  is !  In 
some  ways  we  manage  best,  in  others  they  do.  This 
was  rather  a  cosmopolitan  than  a  typically  French  house, 


78  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

and  yet  in  a  country  how  traditions  linger  and  customs 
cling  !  We  saw  and  did  many  interesting  things,  thanks 
to  the  cordial  hospitality  and  kindness  of  our  host  and 
hostess.  I,  however,  will  only  allude  to  certain  domestic 
details  which  I  learnt  during  my  stay,  and  which  may 
instruct  you  as  they  did  me.  What  interested  me  much 
from  a  housekeeping  point  of  view  was,  not  only  the 
excellence  of  the  cooking,  as  that  now  can  be  seen  else- 
where, but  the  management  of  the  kitchen.  It  seems  a 
small  thing  to  state  as  an  example,  but  I  was  told  that 
no  French  housekeeper  who  at  all  respects  herself  would 
ever  allow  lard  to  come  into  her  house.  Everything  is 
fried  in  what  they  call  graisse,  and  we  call  suet.  Five  or 
six  pounds  are  bought  from  the  butcher — anywhere  in 
England  they  will  let  you  have  it  at  sixpence  a  pound. 
This  is  boiled  for  two  or  three  hours,  skimmed  and 
strained,  and  poured  into  jars  ready  for  use,  taking  the  place 
of  lard  when  butter  or  oil  are  not  used.  Since  I  came 
home  I  have  never  had  any  lard  in  my  house.  Many 
people  here  do  not  know  that  dripping  can  be  cleared 
by  frying  some  pieces  of  raw  potato  in  it  till  they  turn 
brown  ;  this  will  clarify  it  nicely. 

All  chickens,  game,  birds  of  any  kind,  are  roasted  far 
more  slowly  than  with  us,  and  at  wood  fires.  The  livers, 
gizzards,  &c.,  are  chopped  up  and  put  inside  the  bird.  It 
is  always  basted  with  butter,  which  is  poured  round  the 
bird  when^sent  to  table.  This  is  a  very  great  improve- 
ment with  all  birds,  especially  fowls,  on  the  pale  watery 
gravy  or  the  thick  tasteless  'sauce  as  served  in  England. 
Our  method  of  sticking  the  liver  and  gizzard  into  the 
wing  is  a  useless  waste,  for  they  shrivel  into  a  hardened 
mass  before  our  fierce  coal  fires.  The  French,  if  they 
do  not  think  the  livers,  etc.,  necessary  for  improving  the 
gravy  in  the  roasting  often  make  them  the  foundation  of 
a  pie  or  side-dish.  This  cutting  up  the  liver  and  basting 


APRIL  79 

with  butter  is  a  hint  well  worth  remembering,  and  should 
be  universally  applied  in  the  roasting  of  all  birds.  I 
noticed  that  all  roast  meat  was  basted  with  fat  or  butter, 
and  the  gravy  served  just  as  it  was,  without  straining  or 
clarifying,  with  all  the  goodness  of  the  meat  in  it.  This 
we  have  practised  ever  since  at  home,  with  great 
approval.  Many  people  would  object  to  this  as  greasy. 
I  only  say,  '  Try  it.' 

A  very  good,  easily  made  French  soup  is  as  follows  : — 
Potag"e  Paysanne. — Cut  one  large  onion  into  dice, 
put  them  into  a  stewpan  with  two  ounces  of  butter,  and  fry 
a  nice  golden  colour.  Then  take  a  half-inch-thick  slice 
of  bread  toasted  to  the  same  colour ;  break  it  into  small 
pieces,  and  put  them  into  the  stewpan  with  a  pint  of  good 
stock.  Simmer  gently  for  thirty-five  minutes,  then 
serve.  Quantity  for  four  persons. 

The  following  receipt  for  a  tame  duck  I  can  tho- 
roughly recommend ;  if  you  follow  it  exactly,  it  cannot  go 
wrong  :— 

Caneton  a  1' Orange. — Take  a  good  fat  duck,  clean 
it  out,  and  put  the  liver  apart.  Singe  the  duck,  and  clean 
it  very  carefully.  Then  mince  the  liver  with  a  little 
onion  and  some  grated  bacon  or  ham,  add  salt  and 
pepper.  Put  the  stuffing  inside  the  duck.  Now  close 
the  opening  of  the  duck  ;  leave  the  skin  of  the  neck  long, 
and  bring  it  round  under  the  duck  to  close  the  tail. 
Spread  on  the  table  a  clean  pudding -cloth,  and  roll  the 
duck  in  this  rather  tightly,  to  preserve  the  shape.  Tie  up 
the  two  ends  of  the  cloth  with  string.  Put  into  a  stew- 
pan, with  boiling  salted  water.  Continue  to  boil  it  quietly 
for  one  hour  for  an  ordinary  duck,  one  hour  and  ten 
minutes  if  large  ;  it  will  then  be  cooked,  and  ought  to  be 
a  good  pink  colour.  (Chickens  boiled  in  the  same  way  are 
excellent.)  Take  three  oranges,  peel  them  with  a  spoon, 
cut  the  peel  in  quarters,  taking  out  all  the  white ;  shred  the 


8o  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

peel  as  if  for  Julienne  soup  ;  put  it  into  water  for 
seven  or  eight  minutes,  drain  on  a  cloth.  Take  the 
rest  of  the  orange,  removing  all  the  white ;  put  the  pulp 
into  a  good  reduced  stock  half  glazed.  Add  Spanish 
sauce  (see  '  Dainty  Dishes  ' ),  two  or  three  spoonfuls,  and 
a  little  red  wine — port  is  best.  Pass  through  a  sieve,  and 
then  add  the  chips  of  orange-peel.  Unpack  the  duck, 
serve  on  a  dish,  surround  it  with  pieces  of  orange ;  put 
a  little  sauce  over  the  duck  and  the  rest  in  a  sauce- 
boat. 

Another  good  and  useful  receipt  is  the  following  :— 

French  Pie.— Cut  up  2  Ibs.  of  lean  veal,  2  Ibs.  of 
bacon,  and  2  Ibs.  of  lean  pork,  in  very  thin  slices.  Place 
them  in  layers  in  a  fireproof  pie-dish.  Moisten  with 
stock,  and  chop  up  a  little  herb  and  very  little  onion,  and 
put  it  between  the  slices  of  meat.  Cover  with  a  sham 
crust  of  flour  and  water.  Take  all  the  cuttings,  parings, 
bones,  &c. ;  cook  these  in  water  or  weak  stock,  and 
reduce  to  a  large  teacupful. 

When  the  pie  has  baked  some  time  slowly,  take  it  out, 
take  off  the  crust  and  pour  in  the  teacupful  of  stock. 
When  it  has  cooled,  it  improves  the  appearance  of  the 
dish  to  put  some  well-made  aspic  jelly  (see  '  Dainty 
Dishes ')  on  the  top. 

As  it  was  the  end  of  Lent,  I  had  the  chance  of  seeing 
several  maigre  dishes.  All  the  good  cooking  which  hung 
about  monasteries  and  convents  was  swept  out  of  England 
by  the  Eeformation.  It  has  returned  only  in  my  life- 
time, for  gastronomic  or  health  reasons  rather  than  for 
religious  mortification.  The  old  object  was  to  make 
tasty  and  palatable  what  the  rules  of  the  Church  allowed. 
The  French  have  a  real  talent  for  making  good  dishes  out 
of  nothing,  and  this  they  share  with  no  other  nation  in 
the  world.  Ox-tails  are  not  used  to  make  soup  in  France, 
or  were  not ;  but  when  the  French  refugees  came  over 


APRIL  81 

here,  they  found  ox-tails  were  thrown  away  and  were  very 
cheap.  They  immediately  utilised  them,  and  made  the 
excellent  ox-tail  soup  which  we  use  in  England  to  this 
day.  The  black  cooks  of  America,  I  am  told,  never  spoil 
good  materials,  and  they  cook  good  things  excellently. 
The  English  have  a  peculiar  gift  for  taking  the  taste  out 
of  the  best  materials  that  are  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
A  few  terrible  tricks  of  the  trade  are  answerable  for  a 
good  deal  of  this — iron  pots  and  spoons;  soda  thrown 
into  many  things ;  water  poured  over  roasted  meat  for 
gravy ;  soups  cleared  with  the  white  of  eggs.  This  will 
spoil  the  best  soup  in  the  world,  not  only  taking  away  all 
flavour  of  meat  and  vegetables,  but  supplying  a  taste 
that  is  not  unlike  the  smell  of  a  dirty  cloth.  Of  late,  in 
the  effort  to  keep  pace  with  foreign  cooking,  things 
in  England  have  grown  too  messy,  and  I  sometimes 
regret  the  real  Old  English  dishes  of  my  childhood.  The 
system  of  trying  to  make  one  thing  look  like  another  is 
very  objectionable,  I  think,  and  wanting  in  good  taste. 
But  I  must  return  to  my  maigre  receipts.  The  details  can 
be  found  in  '  Dainty  Dishes.' 

Vol-au-vent  au  Maigre. — Make  a  high  Vol-au-vent 
crust.  Prepare  some  quenelles  made  of  fish — any  white 
fish  would  do  (lemon-soles,  whiting,  haddock,  gurnet,  &c.) ;; 
some  white  bottled  mushrooms  preserved  in  salt,  not 
vinegar  (this  is  most  important) ;  some  small  pieces  of 
boiled  fish.  Mix  these  together  in  a  white  sauce  made  of 
butter,  flour  (slightly  cooked  first,  but  not  coloured) ,  then 
?add  the  milk,  warm  the  whole  together,  and  pour  it  into 
the  crust. 

A  rather  nice  cake  for  luncheon  can  be  made  as 
follows  : — Take  three  eggs,  put  them  into  the  scale  and 
weigh  against  them  three  equal  parts  of  flour,  sugar,  and 
butter.  Then  break  the  eggs  and  put  the  yelks  into  a 
basin,  melt  the  butter,  add  the  flour  and  sugar,  and  mix 

a 


82  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

the  whole.  At  the  last  moment  add  the  whites  of  the 
eggs,  beat  slightly,  and  put  it  into  the  oven  in  a  round 
flat  tin  with  a  thin  rim.  Serve  it  on  a  large  round 
plate.  Fresh-water  fish,  so  rare  now  in  England,  though 
the  traces  of  tanks  and  ponds  are  always  to  be  found  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  old  abbeys  and  monasteries,  are 
still  much  eaten  in  the  country  in  France.  Pike  and  carp 
marinaded  are  constantly  seen  at  table.  Marinading 
is  far  too  little  done  in  England;  it  is  most  useful  for 
many  things — hares,  venison,  beef,  and  grouse — and  it 
preserves  the  meat  for  some  time,  if  that  is  what  is  wanted. 
It  is  described  in  '  Dainty  Dishes,'  but  I  give  you  also 
the  following  receipt : — 

German  Receipt  for  Roast  Hare.— Take  a  bottle 
of  common  white  wine  (or  any  remnants  of  already  opened 
bottles) ;  cut  up  onions,  carrots,  herbs,  bay-leaf,  a  clove  or 
two  ;  and  pour  the  whole  over  the  raw  hare  in  a  shallow 
baking-pan,  basting  it  well  every  few  hours  in  a  cool 
place  for  two  or  three  days.  Then  prepare  the  hare.  Take 
off  the  head,  lard  it  well,  and  put  it  into  the  roasting-pan 
with  a  little  dripping  and  more  onions,  carrots,  herbs, 
salt,  and  pepper.  When  roasted,  take  it  out  of  the  oven, 
pour  off  all  the  grease,  and  replace  it  by  half  a  breakfast- 
cupful  of  thick  sour  cream,  which  is  to  be  mixed  with 
the  gravy  at  the  bottom  of  the  pan.  Eeplace  it  in  the 
oven,  baste  well  with  the  mixture,  and  serve  just  as  it  is, 
pouring  the  sauce  over  the  hare. 

Chervil  is  always  used  in  France  for  spring  decoration 
of  fish,  cold  meat,  &c.  It  is  much  hardier  and  more 
easily  grown  than  Parsley,  and  lives  through  the  coldest 
weather  if  covered  up  with  sticks  and  fern.  In  severe 
winters  Parsley  sometimes  fails  in  English  gardens. 

The  life  in  the  little  French  town  near  which  we  were 
was  like  a  page  out  of  a  volume  of  Balzac's  '  Vie  de 
Province/  so  full  of  character,  and,  in  a  sense,  so  far 
away  and  old-fashioned. 


APRIL  83 

I  had  the  privilege  of  visiting  and  hearing  the  story 
of  one  of  that  charming  type,  the  French  old  maid.  I 
sat  in  her  kitchen  whilst  her  bonne  prepared  the  Sunday 
dinner  for  herself,  an  adopted  child,  and  the  inevitable 
male  friend,  be  he  doctor,  notary,  or  priest.  The  soup 
was  maigre  and  economical : — One  large  onion  cut  up  and 
fried  in  butter  in  a  saucepan  over  a  very  slow  fire  till  a 
nice  yellow-brown.  Then  the  saucepan  filled  up  with 
boiling  water  from  a  kettle,  and  allowed  to  cook  half  an 
hour.  Then  strained,  and  a  sufficient  quantity  of  Vermi- 
celli added.  Cook  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  more,  and 
serve.  A  chicken,  prepared  as  before  described,  was 
roasted  for  an  hour  and  a  half  before  a  slow  wood  fire , 
basted  with  butter  all  the  time,  and  served  with  the  butter 
round  it  as  gravy.  The  salad  was  carefully  picked  young 
Watercress  (never  used  by  itself  for  salads  in  England), 
with  oil  and  vinegar,  and  a  hard-boiled  egg  cut  into 
small  quarters  laid  on  the  top.  (Few  know  that  Water 
cress  can  be  grown  in  ordinary  garden  soil,  in  half-shade, 
if  sown  every  spring.)  The  wine  was  good,  and  the 
sweets  came  from  the  pastry-cook. 

During  our  short  stay  in  France  I  saw  several 
gardens,  but  nothing  at  all  interesting.  As  we  drove 
through  the  villages  I  noticed  specimens  of  a  white 
variety  of  Iberis  gibraltarica  (Candytuft)  grown  in  pots, 
carefully  pruned  and  cared  for,  standing  in  the  windows 
of  the  cottages.  Managed  in  this  way,  it  made  a  very 
charming  spring  pot-plant.  I  have  never  seen  it  so 
treated  in  England.  It  is  not  quite  hardy.  I  brought 
home  cuttings,  but  they  all  died.  I  have  now  several 
plants  which  I  have  grown  from  seed.  From  their 
appearance  I  do  not  think  they  will  flower  well  till  they 
are  two  or  three  years  old ;  they  will  want  hard  cutting 
back  directly  after  flowering. 

It  was   early  in  the  year,   and  no   sort  of  spring 

o2 


84  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

gardening  was  aimed  at  in  the  large  bare  beds  cut  in  rather 
coarse  grass.  I  think  turf  is  overdone  in  England  ;  but 
why  it  should  be  attempted  at  all  where  it  grows  badly, 
and  is  rarely  successful,  I  cannot  imagine.  How  infinitely 
prettier  it  would  be  to  have  earth  planted  with  shrubs 
and  low-growing,  creeping  plants,  with  grass  paths  !  The 
shrubs  that  I  saw  in  France  seemed  to  me  as  much  over- 
pruned — indeed  stiffly  cut  back  in  spring — as  they  are 
under-pruned  in  England. 

April  Wth. — We  returned  home  last  night.  At  this 
time  of  year  how  a  week  or  ten  days  changes  the  growth 
in  one's  garden  !  I  must  confess  that  sometimes,  coming 
home  after  dark,  I  have  taken  a  hand-candle  to  inspect 
some  special  favourite. 

Buddleia  globosa  is  well  worth  growing,  even  in  a 
small  garden.  It  has  many  merits  besides  its  golden 
balls,  which  so  charmed  Mr.  Bright,  and  which  here,  at 
any  rate,  I  think  rather  disappointing.  The  growth  is 
lovely ;  and  the  tone  of  the  green  unusual,  mixing  well 
with  many  summer  flowers.  It  lasts  a  long  time  in 
water  in  the  hottest  weather.  The  more  you  cut  it,  the 
better  it  seems  to  do.  It  was  killed  to  the  ground  in  the 
cold  winter  of  '94^95,  but  broke  up  from  the  roots  as 
strong  as  ever.  Some  plants  do  this  ;  others  never  recover. 
The  shrubby  Veronicas  never  do  break  up  from  the  roots 
here.  My  large  Arbutus,  killed  the  same  winter,  threw  up  a 
few  shoots,  but  never  did  any  good,  and  died  the  next  year. 
I  think  the  shrubby  Veronicas  so  well  worth  growing  that 
I  have  five  cr  six  varieties;  and  as  they  are  not  quite 
hardy,  I  keep  pots  of  cuttings  every  winter.  This  we  do 
also  with  three  or  four  nominally  hardy  Cistuses,  though 
they  are  a  little  more  difficult  to  strike.  Helianthemums 
or  Eock-roses  are  well  worth  growing  from  seed  in  a 
sunny  dry  situation.  I  know  nothing  more  charming 
than  these  delicate,  bright-flowered  little  plants  blazing 


APRIL  85 

and  blinking  in  the  sunshine.  I  have  a  double-flowered 
scarlet  Eock-rose,  not  figured  in  any  of  my  books,  and 
which  I  have  rarely  seen  in  gardens.  It  flowers  persist- 
ently for  many  months. 

April  17 'th. — We  have  had  lately  a  severely  cold  week 
— Blackthorn  winter  indeed.  How  the  poor  garden 
shrivels  and  shrinks,  and  seems  to  lose  all  its  colour ! 

Many  years  ago,  in  a  volume  of  Tennyson  given  me  by 
Owen  Meredith,  he  wrote  on  the  fly-leaf  the  following  little 
poem,  full  of  sympathy  for  the  gardener : — 

In  Nature  can  aught  be  unnatural  ? 

If  so,  it  is  surely  the  frost, 

That  cometh  by  night  and  spreadeth  death's  pall 
On  the  promise  of  summer  which  spring  hath  lost. 
In  a  clear  spring  night 
Such  a  frost  pass'd  light 
Over  the  budding  earth,  like  a  ghost. 

But  the  flowers  that  perish'd 

Were  those  alone 
Which,  in  haste  to  be  cherish'd 
And  loved  and  known, 

Had  too  soon  to  the  sun  all  their  beauty  shown. 
Lightly  vested, 
Amorous-breasted 

Blossom  of  almond,  blossom  of  peach- 
Impatient  children,  with  hearts  unsteady, 
So  young,  and  yet  more  precocious  each 

Than  the  leaves  of  the  summer,  and  blushing  already 
These  perished  because  too  soon  they  lived ; 
But  the  oak-flower,  self -restrained,  survived ; 

'  If  the  sun  would  win  me,'  she  thought, « he  must 

Wait  for  me,  wooing  me  warmly  the  while ; 
For  a  flower's  a  fool,  if  a  flower  would  trust 
Her  whole  sweet  being  to  one  first  smile.' 


86  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


MAY 

Vegetable  growing — Autumn  annuals — Spring  seeds— Description 
of  my  own  garden— Weeding— Houses  facing  west— Flowering 
shrubs — May  flowers — Sundials — Hoses  and  Creepers— History 
of  the  Tulip— Salads— Plant  shelters— Sweet  Verbena  — Blue 
Anemones — Packing  cut  flowers — A  few  simple  receipts — Plants 
in  pots. 

May  list. — I  have  not  mentioned  during  these  spring 
months  the  cultivation  of  the  kitchen  garden.  I  leave 
that  entirely  to  my  gardener,  only  helping  throughout 
the  year  by  looking  up  in  Vilmorin's  book  (mentioned  in 
January)  any  special  vegetables  which  are  not  generally 
cultivated  in  England,  and  noting  any  deficiency  in 
quantity  or  quality.  No  one  can  expect  everything  to  be 
equally  successful  every  season,  as  an  unfortunate  sowing, 
a  dry  fortnight,  a  late  frost,  or  a  cold  wind  are  answerable 
for  a  good  deal  in  any  garden.  It  is  always  some  con- 
solation if  one  finds  one's  failures  are  shared  by  one's 
neighbours,  because  then  it  is  more  likely  to  be  from 
some  atmospheric  cause  than  from  one's  own  bad  cultiva- 
tion. All  the  same,  the  best  gardeners  have  the  fewest 
failures. 

We  do  not  sow  Sunflowers  and  many  autumn-flowering 
annuals  before  the  first  week  in  May.  For  out-of-the-way 
hardy  and  half-hardy  seeds  I  find  no  one  is  more  to  be 
relied  on  than  Mr.  Thompson  of  Ipswich.  His  packets 
of  seed  are  not  so  large  nor  so  expensive  as  those  of 
some  other  first-class  nurserymen,  a  great  advantage  for 


MAY  87 

amateurs.  His  catalogue  is  one  of  the  best — simple, 
concise,  and  clear,  and  giving  all  the  information  really 
wanted,  except  perhaps  by  beginners.  These,  however, 
are  equally  depressed  and  bewildered  by  every  catalogue 
and  every  gardening  book. 

Nothing  is  so  delightful  as  the  first  warm  days,  which 
come  sometimes  at  the  beginning,  sometimes  later  in  May. 
By  this  time  all  the  March  seeds  are  well  up,  the  whole 
garden  teems  with  life,  and  all  Nature  seems  full  of  joy. 
The  following  little  poem,  which  was  in  a  May  Pall 
Mall  two  years  ago,  expresses  so  charmingly  the  joyous- 
ness  of  spring  that  I  copied  it  out : — 

BABY  SEED  SONG 

Little  brown  seed,  oh !  little  brown  brother, 

Are  you  awake  in  the  dark  ? 
Here  we  lie  cosily,  close  to  each  other ; 

Hark  to  the  song  of  the  lark — 
'  Waken  ! '  the  lark  says,  '  waken  and  dress  you ; 

Put  on  your  green  coats  and  gay. 
Blue  sky  will  shine  on  you,  sunshine  caress  you — 

Waken  1  'tis  morning— 'tis  May !  ' 

Little  brown  seed,  oh !  little  brown  brother, 

What  kind  of  flower  will  you  be  ? 
I'll  be  a  poppy— all  white,  like  my  mother  ; 

Do  be  a  poppy,  like  me. 
What !  you're  a  sunflower  ?    How  I  shall  miss  you 

When  you're  grown  golden  and  high  1 
But  I  shall  send  all  the  bees  up  to  kiss  you ; 

Little  brown  brother,  good-bye. 

May  3rd. — It  seems  almost  useless  to  describe  my 
garden.  Though  I  myself  am  so  very  fond  of  it,  there 
is  no  reason  anyone  else  should  understand  why  I  love  it ; 
and  when  I  read  the  description  of  the  gardens  that 
other  people  love,  I  wonder  I  can  bear  with  it  at  all.  It 
is  surrounded,  as  I  said  before,  with  large  forest  trees ; 


83  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

and  that  most  objectionable  of  conifers,  a  Wellingtonia, 
grows  almost  in  the  middle  of  the  garden.  I  cannot  cut 
it  down,  as  this  would  deprive  the  lawn-tennis  ground  of 
the  only  shade  it  has.  How  I  long  to  turn  that  lawn- 
tennis  ground  into  a  sunk  Dutch  garden,  with  its  low  red 
wall  all  round  it !  Yet  I  know  I  should  miss  them  very 
much  if  I  no  longer  heard  the  cries  of  the  lawn-tennis 
game  or  the  more  recent  click  of  the  croquet-balls.  The 
top  of  the  low  wall,  in  front  of  the  south  side  of  the 
house,  is  a  long  bed  of  Tea  Eoses.  Mr.  Robinson  names  all 
the  best  sorts,  so  I  need  not  do  so.  They  do  not  flourish 
very  well  with  us,  I  confess,  and  yet  certainly  better  than 
any  other  Eoses.  It  is  their  first  flowering  in  June  that 
is  not  very  good.  From  August  to  October  they  are  a 
great  delight,  flowering  at  intervals  during  all  that  time, 
and  sending  up  long  lovely  shoots  of  brown  leaves,  that 
one  can  gather  without  scruple,  as  they  are  sure  to  be  in- 
jured by  the  winter  frosts ;  and  the  more  the  blooms  are 
cut,  the  more  they  flower.  At  the  other  side  of  the  lawn- 
tennis  ground  I  have  a  little  rockery,  the  system  of  which 
I  can  recommend  to  anyone  who  wants  room  and  various 
aspects  for  plants  without  blocking  out  the  rest  of  the 
garden  or  the  distance  beyond.  We  dug  a  large  deep  hole 
in  the  ground,  carrying  up  gradually  a  small  irregular 
path  to  the  level  of  the  ground  on  each  side,  roughly 
placing  pieces  of  flat  stone  on  each  side  of  the  path  (to 
form  steps)  and  all  round  the  hole  at  the  bottom.  We 
kept  the  earth  from  falling  by  facing  it  with  a  wall  of 
stones,  stuck  flatly  and  irregularly  into  the  earth ;  this 
makes  an  excellent  cool  and  deep  root-bed  for  many 
Alpine  and  other  plants.  When  it  rains,  there  is  a  natural 
tendency  for  the  water  to  drain  down  in  all  directions  into 
the  hole  at  the  bottom.  This  hole  had  been  dug  deeper 
in  the  middle,  and  puddled  with  a  little  clay,  not  cement ; 
and  arge  stones  were  laid  in  the  bottom,  to  retain  the 


MAY  89 

water  longer  than  it  naturally  would  remain  in  our  sand. 
For  really  dry  weather  some  pipes  are  laid  on  undergound 
to  a  tap  in  another  part  of  the  garden,  from  which  the 
water  runs  into  a  tub  at  the  top  of  the  rockery  for 
watering,  and  the  overflow  falls  into  the  hole.  In 
this  way  our  tiny  water-bed  is  kept  moist  in  the  dryest 
weather. 

We  grow  in  the  water  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  our 
river  plants,  the  Ranunculus  lingua,  or  Water  Buttercup. 
It  has  a  noble  growth  and  large,  shining,  yellow  flowers, 
which  bloom  for  a  long  time.  Its  only  fault  is  that,  if 
given  the  position  it  likes,  it  grows  and  increases  with 
weed-like  rapidity,  and  in  a  small  space  must  be  ruth- 
lessly thinned  out  when  it  begins  to  grow  in  spring,  and 
often  later  as  well.  We  have  in  the  hole  Japanese 
Primulas  and  Japanese  Iris  (Kempferi),  though  they  do  not 
flower  as  well  as  in  the  dry  bed  above,  which  is  the 
hottest,  dryest,  most  sunny  place  in  the  garden  ;  and  the 
only  attention  they  get,  after  being  planted  in  good  leaf 
mould,  is  some  copious  waterings  when  the  flower-buds 
.are  formed.  They  have  the  largest,  finest  flowers  I  have 
ever  seen  in  England.  I  must  not  forget  our  native 
Forget-me-nots,  which,  Tennyson  says,  '  grow  for  happy 
lovers.'  It  is  a  much  more  persistent  flowerer  than  the 
garden  kind.  In  his  '  Lancashire  Garden  '  Mr.  Bright 
praises  very  much  the  Primula  japonica,  and  nothing 
can  be  more  charming  and  unusual  than  the  whorled 
growth  of  its  flower-stems.  He  calls  the  blossoms  crimson ; 
I  call  them  dark  magenta — at  any  rate,  they  have  that 
purple  tinge  which  spoils  so  many  reds.  Where  they 
really  look  well  is  in  a  moist  ditch  or  on  the  damp  half- 
shaded  edge  of  a  wood.  If  the  ground  is  prepared  for 
them,  and  the  white  kind  planted  too,  they  sow  themselves 
in  endless  variety  of  tone  from  dark  to  light ;  but  they 
are  not  especially  suited  for  beds  or  mixing  with  other 


90  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

plants,  and  from  their  colour  are  not  worth  growing  in 
pots. 

All  round  the  top  of  the  hole  described  above  is  a 
raised  bed,  left  irregular  in  places  from  the  thro  wing-up  of 
the  earth  that  was  dug  out.  The  whole  thing  is  on  a  very 
small  scale  in  my  garden,  but  it  partakes  slightly  of  the 
nature  of  the  rockeries  at  Kew,  which  anyone  interested 
in  this  kind  of  gardening  can  see,  and  by  seeing  learn. 
The  great  point  of  making  a  rockery  is  to  have  large 
mounds  of  good  earth,  and  then  lay  stones  on  them, 
making  terraces  and  little  flat  beds,  stoned  over  to  retain 
the  moisture  and  prevent  the  earth  being  washed  away. 
The  old  idea  was  to  have  stumps  of  trees  or  mounds  of 
stones  and  brick,  and  then  fill  in  the  interstices  with 
earth.  This  is  no  good  at  all ;  the  plants  have  no  depth 
of  earth,  and  perish.  The  trouble  of  such  gardening 
consists  only  in  the  constant  hand-weeding  that  it 
requires.  This  must  be  done  by  someone  more  or  less 
experienced,  as  very  often  the  most  precious  plant  looks 
like  a  small  weed,  while  in  other  cases  many  planted 
things  are  no  better  than  weeds  if  left  alone,  and  quickly 
choke  and  destroy  all  their  less  vigorous  neighbours. 

Weeding !  What  it  means  to  us  all !  The  worry  of 
seeing  the  weeds,  the  labour  of  taking  them  up,  the  way 
they  flourish  at  busy  times,  and  the  dangers  that  come 
from  zeal  without  knowledge !  When  we  first  went  to 
live  in  the  country,  an  affectionate  member  of  the  family, 
who  hates  weeds  and  untidiness  of  all  kinds,  set  to  work 
to  tear  up  ruthlessly  every  annual  that  had  been  sown, 
and  with  pride  said,  '  At  any  rate,  I  have  cleared  that 
bit  of  ground.'  Weeding,  if  tiring,  is  also  a  fascinating 
employment ;  and  so  is  spudding.  The  first  is  best  done 
in  dry  weather,  the  second  in  moist.  I  am  all  for  reducing 
lawns  and  turf,  except  for  paths,  in  small  gardens ;  but 
what  there  is  of  grass  should  be  well  kept,  and  free  from 


MAY  91 

weeds.  A  quantity  of  daisies  showing  up  their  white 
faces,  though  pretty  in  theory,  are  in  fact  very  unbecom- 
ing to  the  borders  on  a  sunshiny  summer's  day. 

The  longest  side  of  the  house  faces  west.  How  I  love 
it  because  of  this !  To  my  mind,  every  country  house 
is  dull  that  does  not  face  west,  and  have  its  principal 
view  that  way.  Modern  civilisation  forbids  us  to  enjoy 
the  sunrise,  but  the  varied  effects  of  the  sunset  sky 
glorify  everything — the  most  commonplace  gable  or  the 
ugliest  chimney-stack,  a  Scotch  fir  or  an  open  field,  which 
assumes  a  green  under  an  evening  primrose  sky  that  it 
never  has  at  any  other  time.  The  sky  is  like  the  sea  for 
its  ever-changefulness.  You  may  watch  sunsets  most 
carefully  every  day  in  the  year,  and  never  will  you  see 
twice  exactly  the  same  effect.  How  we  all  know,  and 
notice  after  midsummer,  that  marching  south  of  the  sun 
at  setting-time  !  The  old  fellow  in  June  sets  right  away 
to  the  north,  over  the  Common,  changing  groups  of  trees 
and  a  little  distant  hill  to  purple  and  blue.  At  the 
autumn  equinox  he  looks  straight  in  at  the  windows  as 
he  goes  down  between  the  stems  of  the  two  tall  fir-trees. 
Who,  when  forced  to  come  in  to  dinner  on  a  summer's 
evening,  does  not  appreciate  a  west  dining-room  with  tall 
panes  of  glass  which  give  the  power  to  measure  the 
gradations  of  the  sky,  from  the  deep  grey-blue  of  night's 
garments  at  the  top,  to  the  bright  gold,  streaked  with 
purple  and  crimson,  at  the  base — the  earth  growing 
mysteriously  dark  all  the  while,  and  the  evening  star 
shining  brighter  every  minute  ?  Architects  tell  you,  and 
men  say,  they  prefer  that  a  house  should  face  south-east. 
I  do  not  at  all  agree  with  them  ;  the  effects  of  evening  to 
me  are  too  much  to  give  up  for  any  other  advantage  in  the 
world,  real  or  imaginary.  It  is  far  easier  to  make  some 
other  room  into  a  breakfast-room,  to  catch  the  morning 
sun  in  winter,  than  to  change  your  dining-room  in  the 


92  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

summer  for  the  sake  of  the  sunsets.     To  the  west,  then, 
I  have  my  fountain,  level  with  the  turf,  and  with  only  the 
ornament  of  some  special  plants.     To  the  right  of  the 
fountain  is  a  large  bed  of  carnations,  slightly  raised  and 
terraced  with   stones,  to  give  good   depth   of  rich  soil, 
unrobbed  of  moisture   from  the   strong-growing   shrubs 
behind,  that  are  especially  necessary  for  protection  from 
the  north  and  east.     I  strongly  advise  that  on  first  coming 
to  a  new  place  you  should  never  cut  down  much  till  you 
have  given  all  the  consideration  possible  to  that  matter  of 
protection.     I  cannot  repeat  too  often  that  wind-swept 
gardens  can  never  be  really  satisfactory  to  the  gardener. 
On  the  left  of  the  fountain,  cut  in  the  grass,  are  the  two 
long  borders,  far  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  garden 
to  keep  as  I  should  wish  them  to  be.     They  should  be 
always  gay  and  bright,  the  highest  plants  planted  down 
the  middle  ;  and  even  they  should  be  unequal  in  height. 
All  plants  that  grow  forward  into  the  grass  must  be  kept 
for  other  beds  edged  with  stone  or  gravel.     Borders  cut 
in  grass   must  be  luxuriant  and  not  untidy,  and  filled 
principally  with  plants  which   in    their    non-flowering 
season  are  not  unsightly.     It  is  for  such  borders  that  the 
seed  beds  and  the  reserve  garden  are  so  indispensable. 
On  the  left  of  these  borders  are  a  few  specimen  plants 
cut  in  the  grass  : — A  Polygonum  cuspidatiim,  which  is  a 
joy  from  the  first  starting  of  its  marvellous  quick  spring 
growth  to  its  flowering-time,  and  to  the  day  when  its 
yellow  autumn  leaves  leave  the  bare  red-brown  branches 
standing  alone  after  the  first  frosts  of  October  ;  a  Siberian 
Crab,  beautiful  with  blossom  in  spring  and  with  fruit  in 
autumn;  also  that  lovely  autumn-flowering  shrub  Des- 
modium  penduliflorum,  which  has  to  be  cut  down  every 
year,  and  which  is  never  seen  to  advantage  in  a  border 
because  of  its  feathery  and  spreading  growth.     Behind 
these  again,  and  facing  due  north  and  shaded  from  the 


MAY 


93 


south,  is  a  large  bed  of  the  old  Moss-Eose,  which  in  this 
position  does  exceedingly  well.  The  large  branches  are 
partly  pegged  down,  .and  they  are  not  pruned  back  very 
hard.  Behind  the  fountain,  away  from  the  house,  are 
bamboos,  Japanese  grasses,  and  low-growing,  shrubby 
Spiraeas ;  the  smallest  gardens  should  not  be  without 
some  of  these,  more  especially  S.  thunbergi,  so  precious  for 
its  miniature  early  flowers  and  its  lovely  decorative  foliage, 
and  very  useful  for  picking  and  sending  away.  Clethra 
(Sweet  Pepper  Bush)  is  also  a  useful  little  shrub,  as  it 
flowers  in  July,  when  watering  helps  it  to  bloom  well. 
But  I  have  only  to  refer  you  again  and  again  to  the 
'  English  Flower  Garden.'  If  you  study  this,  you  will 
never  lack  variety  or  plenty,  whatever  your  soil,  or  your 
situation,  or  your  aspect — no,  nor  even  your  nearness  to 
that  deadly  enemy  of  plant  life,  a  smoky  town. 

A  lovely  spring-flowering  shrub  is  Exochorda  grandi- 
flora.  I  can  most  conscientiously  say,  '  Get  it.'  It  is  per- 
fectly hardy ;  the  flowers,  full-blown  and  in  bud,  are  of 
an  exquisitely  pure  white,  and  the  foliage  is  light-green, 
delicate,  and  refined. 

One  of  the  most  precious  of  May  flowers,  and  one  not 
nearly  enough  grown,  is  the  early  Dutch  Honeysuckle. 
It  is  nearly  white,  though  it  dies  off  yellow.  I  have 
named  it  in  the  lists,  but  it  deserves,  if  only  for  picking,  a 
place  in  every  garden.  Being  an  early  bloomer,  it  re- 
quires a  warm  place,  and  would  do  admirably  against  the 
low  wall  of  any  greenhouse.  Those  precious  frontages  to 
greenhouses,  in  large  places  and  in  what  I  call '  gardeners' 
gardens,'  are  so  often  left  unused,  neat,  empty,  and  bare. 
On  these  wasted  places  many  lovely  things  would  grow, 
and  none  better  than  this  beautiful  Dutch  Honeysuckle, 
with  its  double  circles  of  blooms,  its  excellent  travelling 
qualities,  and  its  powerful  sweet  scent,  unsurpassed  by 
anything,  It  is,  I  suppose,  like  many  things,  better  for 


94  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

good  feeding.  It  wants  nothing  but  cutting  back  hard  as 
soon  as  it  has  made  its  summer  growth,  after  flowering,  to 
keep  it  well  in  its  place.  It  flowers  profusely  year  after 
year,  and  it  is  easily  increased  by  summer  layering. 

Old  Man  or  Southernwood  (Artemisia  abrotanum) 
ought  never  to  be  forgotten.  It  grows  easily  from  cuttings 
stuck  into  the  ground  in  any  of  the  early  summer  months. 
I  am  told  that  it  is  an  especial  favourite  with  the  London 
poor.  Perhaps  its  strong  smell  brings  back  any  chance 
association  with  the  country  and  the  cottage  garden.  It 
reminds  one  of  the  old  story  of  the  poor  Irishman,  when 
the  Lady  Bountiful  of  the  place  had  transformed  his  cabin 
into  the  graceful  neatness  of  an  English  cottage.  He  gazed 
half -indignantly  and  half-gratefully  on  the  change.  '  It  is 
all  very  kind,'  said  he,  '  but  the  good  lady  does  not  know 
how  dear  to  a  poor  man  is  everything  that  reminds  him 
of  the  time  when  he  played,  instead  of  working.  These 
great  folks  do  not  understand  us.'  But,  after  all,  are  we 
not  all  like  that  ?  Does  not  sweet  Nature  herself  throw  a 
veil  over  the  storms  of  middle-life  and  soften  memories, 
which  become  sharp,  vivid,  and  clear  only  concerning  our 
young  days  and  the  time  when  '  we  played,'  full  of 
buoyant  hope  for  all  that  lay  before  us  ? 

I  have  always  wished  for  a  sundial  in  the  middle  of 
my  grass  walks  where  they  widen  into  a  circle.  Even 
in  an  unpretending  modern  garden  I  do  not  think  a  sun- 
dial is  affected — or,  at  any  rate,  not  very — and  I  long  to 
write  round  the  top  of  it  my  favourite  among  the  old 
Italian  mottoes  : — '  I  only  mark  the  bright  hours.'  To 
the  left  of  my  long  borders  are  four  large,  most  useful, 
square  beds,  divided  by  narrow  green  paths.  These  are 
planted  and  sown,  and  renewed  three  or  four  times  a  year  ; 
and  I  always  wonder  how  anyone  gets  on  without  such 
kinds  of  beds.  The  Love-in-the-Mist  and  Gypsophila 
gracilis  are  sown  broadcast  here  together  twice  a  year, 


MAY 


95 


in  March  and  in  September.  I  always  save  my  own  seed  of 
Love-in-the-Mist ;  but  in  doing  that,  you  must  be  careful 
to  mark  the  best,  largest,  and  bluest  flowers.  Then  what 
you  keep  is  far  better  than  what  you  can  buy  ;  but,  unless 
you  take  this  trouble,  seeds  grown  in  one  place  degenerate. 
To  the  right  of  the  long  borders  are  two  large  Rose  beds 
with  Eoses — old-fashioned  rather  than  very  large  ones. 
The  Hybrid  Perpetuals  do  so  badly  in  the  light  soil ;  but 
here  are  G-loria  Mundi,  Cottage-maid,  the  dear  little 
pink  Rose  de  Meaux,  the  large  white  Cabbage,  and  so 
on.  Beyond  the  Eose  beds  is  a  covered  walk,  made 
with  stems  of  small  fir-trees  bound  together  with  wire — 
an  attempt  at  a  pergola,  but  riot  by  any  means  as  solid 
as  I  should  like.  On  this  grow  vines,  hardy  climbing 
Eoses,  Honeysuckles,  and  a  dark  claret-coloured  Vine 
(which  looks  well),  Aristolochia,  Clematis  (various),  and,  to 
make  a  little  brightness  in  spring,  two  Kerrias.  The 
single  one,  which  is  the  original  Japanese  plant,  is  very 
uncommon,  and  yet  so  pretty — much  better  for  wedging 
than  the  double  kind,  the  old  Jews-mallow  of  cottage 
gardens. 

All  these  plants  want  constant  watching,  pruning, 
manuring,  chalking,  mulching.  One  ought  always  to  be 
on  the  watch  to  see  if  things  do  not  look  well,  and  why 
they  do  not.  The  great  thing  to  remember  is,  that  if 
a  plant  is  worth  growing  at  all  it  is  worth  growing 
healthily.  A  Daisy  or  a  Dandelion,  fine,  healthy,  and 
robust,  as  they  hold  up  their  heads  in  the  spring  sunshine, 
give  more  pleasure  and  are  better  worth  looking  at  than 
the  finest  flower  one  knows  that  looks  starved,  drooping 
and  perishing  at  the  flowering- time.  With  many  plants 
here,  if  not  watered  at  the  flowering-time,  the  buds  droop 
and  the  flowers  never  expand  at  all. 

We  have  been  eating  lately,  as  Spinach,  and  found  it 
quite  delicious,  the  leaves  of  the  Chicory,  which  Sutton 


96     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY   GARDEN 

calls  '  Christmas  Salad.'  It  is  a  first-rate  plant  all 
through  the  winter,  an  excellent  salad,  and  now  so  good, 
useful,  and  wholesome  to  eat  cooked.  It  should  be  dressed 
as  recommended  for  Spinach  in  '  Dainty  Dishes.' 

This  is  the  time  to  make  Rhubarb  jam  ;  if  carefully 
made,  and  a  little  ginger  added,  it  is  very  good  indeed. 

To  my  mind,  few  flowers  please  the  eye  as  the  Tulip 
does. 

T.  gesneriana,  with  its  handsome  long  stem  and 
brilliant  flower,  gives  me  especial  delight.  The  Tulip  is 
a  member  of  the  Lily  family,  and  has  an  interesting 
history,  which  I  read  one  day  in  a  newspaper.  It  is  a. 
native  of  Asia  Minor,  and  was  brought  from  Constantinople 
in  1557.  It  was  first  flowered  in  England  in  1559  by  the 
wife  of  an  apothecary.  She  had  procured  the  first  bulb 
from  a  grateful  sailor  who  had  brought  it  home  in  return 
for  attentions  during  sickness,  by  which  his  life  was  saved, 
It  was  all  he  had,  like  the  widow's  mite,  but  it  was  a 
source  of  great  profit  to  the  wife  of  the  apothecary, 
who  tenderly  cultivated  it,  and  sold  the  bulbs  for  a  guinea 
each  after  she  had,  by  good  care,  procured  a  sufficient 
stock  of  them. 

May  6th. — The  garden  looks  dull  just  now ;  but  four 
weeks  of  no  rain  always  produce  that  effect  on  this  soil. 
When  the  showers  do  come,  everything  revives  in  the 
most  extraordinary  way,  partly  from  the  earth  being  so 
warm  and  dry.  The  only  rather  showy  things  in  the 
garden  are  some  early  red  Ehododendrons,  and  they  look 
droopy;  a  Siberian  Crab,  which  has  been  one  mass  of 
snowy- white  blossoms  for  a  fortnight ;  and  a  most  desir- 
able little  shrub  called  Deutzia  elegans,  quite  hardy, 
totally  unaffected  by  our  coldest  winters,  flowering  every 
year,  and  wanting  no  attention  except  the  cutting-back 
every  year  after  flowering.  Berberises  I  do  not  find  quite 
so  hardy  as  one  expects  them  to  be,  but  this  very  likely  is 


MAY 


97 


because  they  do  not  grow  very  robust,  owing  to  the  dryness 
of  the  soil.  B.  Darwinii  was  nearly  killed  by  the  severe 
winter,  but  is  now  flowering  profusely,  and  is  a  lovely 
and  desirable  shrub.  The  whole  charm  of  flowering 
shrubs,  to  my  mind,  depends  on  their  being  given  lots  of 
room,  and  sufficient  care  being  taken  of  them  to  make 
them  individually  healthy  plants.  The  dear  little  pink 
Daphne  Cneorum  is  doing  well,  but  I  have  myself  often 
given  it  a  canful  of  water  during  the  last  fortnight.  It 
is  very  much  strengthened  if,  after  the  flowering,  you 
layer  a  certain  number  of  the  branches,  covering  them 
with  a  little  peat ;  this  enables  you  to  increase  your 
stock  of  plants,  and  improves  the  size  of  your  specimen 
plant. 

All  this  last  month  we  have  been  eating  the  thin- 
nings of  seedling  Lettuces  as  salad,  and  they  are  most 
delicious.  All  kinds  of  Lettuces  seem  to  eat  equally  well ; 
they  are  grown  in  boxes  in  a  frame.  I  first  thought  of 
eating  them  from  seeing  that  they  were  thrown  away  to 
give  room  for  those  that  were  going  to  be  planted  out.  I 
now  purposely  grow  them  in  extra  quantities,  and  in 
succession,  so  that  my  salads  may  never  fall  short.  Even 
out  of  doors,  in  the  summer,  we  sometimes  grow  them  if 
our  large  Lettuces  run  to  seed.  They  make  infinitely 
better  salad  than  the  tough  little  brown  Cos  Lettuces, 
grown  with  such  care  in  frames  all  through  the  winter. 
All  the  year  round  I  always  mix  the  salad  on  the  table 
myself,  using  nothing  but  oil,  vinegar,  salt,  and  pepper ; 
and  I  always  have  brought  to  table,  on  a  separate  little 
plate,  some  herbs,  Tarragon,  Chervil,  and  some  very 
young  Onions ;  these  I  cut  up  over  the  Lettuces  before 
I  mix  in  the  oil  and  vinegar.  If  you  have  no  young 
Onions,  Chive-tops  do  very  well.  These  herbs  are  an 
immense  addition  to  any  salad,  but  are  far  from 
universally  used  in  England,  though  they  are  quite  easy 

ii 


98  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

to  grow,  for  anyone  who  has  a  kitchen  garden,  even  a 
small  one.  The  Tarragon,  however,  and  the  Onions  have 
to  be  grown  in  the  conservatory  in  the  winter.  Many 
young  gardeners  do  not  know  that  the  secret  of  young 
Potatoes  being  good,  and  not  watery,  is  to  take  them  out 
of  the  ground  several  days  before  you  boil  them.  A  little 
Mint  chopped  on  to  young  Potatoes  instead  of  Parsley 
makes  a  pleasant  change  ;  but  then  we  English  like  Mint, 
and  it  is  very  different  here  from  the  Mint  grown  in  dry 
countries,  which  is  just  like  Peppermint.  The  French 
have  a  way  of  boiling  Asparagus  which  is  especially  good 
for  the  thin  green  Asparagus  so  common  in  our  English 
gardens : — You  tie  them  into  a  bundle,  and  put  them, 
stalk  downwards,  into  a  fairly  deep  saucepan.  In  this 
way  the  heads  are  only  cooked  by  the  steam,  and  do  not 
become  soppy. 

May  \Qth. — I  have  a  friend  who  to-day  writes  she  is 
having  iron  rings  driven  into  an  old  stone  house  round 
the  windows  so  as  to  hold  pots  of  Carnations  and 
Geraniums,  to  hang  down  as  they  do  in  Tyrol  and 
Switzerland.  This  will  look  pretty,  no  doubt,  if  it 
answers  ;  but  in  our  cold  and  windy  summers  I  am  sure 
they  would  do  better  if  one  pot  were  sunk  inside  another 
with  some  moss  between,  so  that  the  evaporation  caused 
by  the  wind,  which  freezes  the  roots,  should  not  be  so  great. 
Abroad  the  pots  are  frequently  glazed  either  all  the  way 
down  or  part  of  the  way  down  ;  this  stops  evaporation. 
So  many  greenhouse  plants,  when  they  are  '  stood  out,'  as 
the  gardeners  say,  get  injured  by  the  cold  winds  on  the 
pots,  which  does  far  more  harm  than  the  wind  on  the 
leaves.  One  of  the  best  and  simplest  remedies  is  to 
dig  moderately  deep  trenches  with  a  raised  border  round 
them  of  turf  or  boards,  and  stand  the  pots  in  these, 
instead  of  on  the  open  ground.  Sheets  of  corrugated  iron 
cut  to  convenient  sizes  make  excellent  movable  shelters 


MAY 


99 


for  plants  from  the  north-east  wind.  Shelter  in  all 
forms,  without  taking  too  much  out  of  the  soil,  as  trees 
and  shrubs  do,  is  the  great  secret  of  success  in  all  kinds 
of  gardening.  I  should  spend  my  life  in  inventing  shelters 
if  I  lived  on  the  East  Coast ;  but  I  confess  that  tem- 
porary protections  are  not  very  pretty.  Another  good 
method  of  obtaining  shelter  is  to  use  common  hurdles  of 
iron  or  wood,  or  flat  laths  with  Gorse  or  Bracken  twisted 
into  them.  When  all  your  hand-lights  are  in  use  in  Spring, 
a  good  deal  of  protection  from  frost  may  be  given  to  the 
seed  beds  by  sheets  of  newspaper  held  down  by  a  stone  or 
two  ;  muslin  sewn  over  a  zinc  wire-coop  will  keep  out  six 
or  seven  degrees  of  frost.  Dried  Bracken  spread  over 
frames  is  even  better  for  keeping  out  frost  than  matting, 
and  is  nearly  as  easily  removed. 

May  11th. — Epimediums  are  charming  little  plants 
with  lovely,  graceful  foliage,  and  are  well  worth  growing 
if  you  have  a  moist  and  shady  corner.  E.  pinnatum  is 
perhaps  the  best,  and  has  long  clusters  of  small  yellow 
flowers ;  the  leaves  are  very  pretty,  and  mix  well  with  any 
flowers. 

Aloysia  citriodora  (Sweet  Verbena)  is  a  plant  that  is 
a  universal  favourite.  I  have  never  known  anyone,  not 
even  those  who  dislike  strongly  scented  flowers,  not  be 
delighted  with  the  delicious  refreshing  smell  of  its  leaves, 
which  they  retain  long  after  they  are  dried.  Yet  you  go 
to  house  after  house,  and  find  no  plants  growing  out  of 
doors.  Their  cultivation  is  simple,  and  they  require 
but  little  care  to  make  them  quite  hardy;  out  of  five 
or  six  plants  which  I  have  out  of  doors,  only  one  died 
in  the  hard  winter  two  years  ago.  If  you  have  any  small 
plants  in  your  greenhouse  (if  not,  buy  them  at  sixpence 
apiece),  put  them  out  at  the  end  of  May,  after  harden- 
ing off,  in  a  warm  sunny  place,  either  close  to  a  wall  or 
under  the  shelter  of  a  wall.  Water  them,  if  the  weather 

u2 


ioo    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

is  dry  ;  and  do  not  pick  them  much  the  first  year,  as  their 
roots  correspond  to  the  top  growth.  Out  off  the  flowers 
as  they  appear.  When  injured  by  the  frost,  never  cut 
the  branches  down  till  quite  late  in  the  following  year.  It 
is  this  cutting-back  that  causes  the  death  of  so  many 
plants ;  the  larger  stems  are  hollow,  and  the  water  in 
them  either  rots  or  freezes  the  roots.  In  November 
cover  the  roots  of  the  Verbena  with  a  heap  of  dry  ashes  ; 
this  is  all  the  care  they  require,  and  they  will  break  up 
stronger  and  finer  each  year.  I  have  kept  plants  in  this 
way  year  after  year,  even  in  an  open  border.  I  believe 
they  would  grow  in  London  gardens  as  long  as  they  have 
plenty  of  sun ;  and  if  the  plant  is  weak  when  they  begin  to 
grow  in  the  spring,  it  would  be  well  to  pick  off  some  of 
the  shoots.  The  cuttings  strike  quite  easily  all  through 
the  summer  in  sand  in  a  greenhouse  or  under  a  bell-glass. 
May  14£/t. — I  suppose  it  is  the  same  with  everything  in 
life  that  one  really  cares  about,  and  you  must  not,  any  of 
you,  be  surprised  if  you  have  moments  in  your  gardening 
life  of  such  profound  depression  and  disappointment  that 
you  will  almost  wish  you  had  been  content  to  leave 
everything  alone  and  have  no  garden  at  all.  This  is 
especially  the  case  in  a  district  affected  by  smoke  or 
wind,  or  in  a  very  light  sandy  soil.  Five  weeks  without 
a  drop  of  rain,  and  everything  bursts  into  flower  and  as 
quickly  goes  off.  Two  or  three  days  ago  the  lilacs  were 
quite  beautiful,  having  responded  well  to  last  year's 
pruning ;  now  they  are  faded  and  scentless,  and  almost 
ugly.  The  German  Irises,  too,  were  blooming  well,  with 
long  healthy  stalks.  I  find  that  what  helps  them  here  is 
to  grow  the  small  pieces  one  buys  from  the  nurseryman 
for  two  or  three  years  in  rich  garden  soil,  where  they 
grow  quickly,  making  roots  and  leaves.  After  that  I 
move  them  into  some  dry  border  facing  east  or  south, 
and  I  find  that  they  then  flower  as  well  as  one 


MAY  joi 

can  possibly  desire.  The  beautiful  pale-blue  Anemone 
apennina  is  now  nodding  its  little  blue  heads  under  my 
big  trees.  In  the  far-away  days  of  my  childhood — it 
must  have  been  in  the  'Forties — a  really  typical  man-of- 
the-world  presented  my  mother  with  four  well-bound 
volumes  of  Mrs.  Hemans'  poems.  Imagine  any  man 
giving  such  a  present  now !  And  yet  she  wrote  some 
pretty  things,  of  which  the  following  is  a  specimen,  and 
certainly  it  is  quite  as  good  as  many  modern  flower- 
poems  : — 

TO   THE  BLUE  ANEMONE 

Flower  of  starry  clearness  bright, 
Quivering  urn  of  coloured  light, 
Hast  thou  drawn  thy  cup's  rich  dye 
From  the  intenseness  of  the  sky  ? 
From  a  long,  long  fervent  gaze 
Through  the  year's  first  golden  days 
Up  that  blue  and  silent  deep 
Where,  like  things  of  sculptured  sleep, 
Alabaster  clouds  repose 
With  the  sunshine  on  their  snows  ? 
Thither  was  thy  heart's  love  turning, 
Like  a  censer  ever  burning, 
Till  the  purple  heavens  in  thee 
Set  their  smile,  anemone  ? 

Or  can  those  warm  tints  be  caught 

Each  from  some  quick  glow  of  thought  ? 

So  much  of  bright  soul  there  seems 

In  thy  bendings  and  thy  gleams, 

So  much  thy  sweet  life  resembles 

That  which  feels  and  weeps  and  trembles, 

I  could  deem  thee  spirit-filled 

As  a  reed  by  music  thrilled 

When  thy  being  1  behold 

In  each  loving  breath  unfold, 

Or,  like  woman's  willowy  form, 

Shrink  before  the  gathering  storm, 

I  could  ask  a  voice  from  thee 

Delicate  anemone. 


102     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

Flower,  thou  seem'st  not  born  to  die, 
With  thy  radiant  purity, 
But  to  melt  in  air  away, 
Mingling  with  the  soft  spring  day. 
When  the  crystal  heavens  are  still, 
And  faint  azure  veils  each  hill, 
And  the  lime-leaf  does  not  move, 
Save  to  songs  that  stir  the  grove, 
And  earth  all  glorified  is  seen, 
As  imaged  in  some  lake  serene — 
Then  thy  vanishing  should  be, 
Pure  and  meek  anemone. 

Flower,  the  laurel  still  may  shed 
Brightness  round  the  victor's  head, 
And  the  rose  in  beauty's  hair 
Still  its  festal  glory  wear, 
And  the  willow  leaves  droop  o'er 
Brows  which  love  sustains  no  more ; 
But  thy  living  rays  refined, 
Thou,  the  trembler  of  the  wind, 
Thou,  the  spiritual  flower, 
Sentient  of  each  breeze  and  shower, 
Thou,  rejoicing  in  the  skies, 
And  transpierced  with  all  their  dyes, 
Breathing  vase,  with  light  o'erflowing, 
Gem-like  to  thy  centre  glowing— 
Thou  the  poet's  type  shall  be, 
Flower  of  soul,  anemone. 


May  16th. — None  of  the  small  cheap  bulbs  are  better 
worth  growing  than  the  Alliums,  white  and  yellow. 
They  increase  themselves  rapidly,  and  are  quite  hardy, 
though  the  white  ones  force  well  and  are  useful.  People 
object  to  them  because  the  stalks  smell  of  garlic  at  the 
time  of  picking,  but  it  goes  off  as  soon  as  they  are  put  into 
water;  and  the  flowers  are  lovely,  delicate,  and  useful, 
and  have  the  great  merit  I  mention  so  often  of  remaining 
a  long  time  fresh  in  water.  We  leave  some  of  the  bulbs 
in  the  ground,  and  take  up  others.  Those  that  are  taken 


MAY  103 

up  and  dried  in  the  sun  flower  best  the  following  year ; 
and  the  finest  bulbs  can  be  planted  together,  the  yellow 
making  a  fine  splotch  of  colour  just  as  the  yellow 
Alyssum  is  over.  The  smaller  the  garden,  the  more 
essential  it  is  to  get  a  succession  in  colour.  Avoid  many 
white  flowers  in  small  gardens ;  in  roomy  gardens  with 
shady  corners  nothing  looks  better  than  the  common 
single  white  and  purple  Eocket,  raised  from  seed  and 
planted  in  bold  groups.  It  will  grow  in  very  dry  places, 
but  it  soon  gets  untidy,  and  has  to  be  cut  back,  which  it 
does  not  seem  to  mind  at  all. 

Tiarella  cordifolia  ('  Foam-flower,'  Mr.  Eobinson  calls 
it)  is  a  little  Canadian  plant  which  ought  never  to  be  left 
out  of  any  garden. 

May  19th. — This  is  the  first  day  of  one  of  the  great 
gardening  interests  and  treats  in  the  year — the  Eoyal 
Horticultural  Show  in  the  Temple  Gardens.  I  go  every 
year  now,  and  should  be  sorry  to  miss  it.  How  odd  it 
seems,  that  for  years  and  years  I  never  went  to  a  flower 
show,  or  knew  anything  about  them,  and  now  they  have 
become  one  of  the  interests  of  my  life !  The  great 
attraction  this  year  is  the  revival  of  what  are  called 
old-fashioned  late  single  Tulips — Breeders,  Flames,  &c. 
Those  who  like  to  buy  the  bulbs,  ordering  them  care- 
fully by  the  catalogue,  may  have  their  gardens  gay  with 
Tulips  for  over  two  months,  certainly  the  whole  of  April 
and  May.  The  quantity  of  Apples,  for  so  late  in  the 
season,  was  what  struck  me  as  almost  the  most  remark- 
able thing  at  the  show.  One  of  the  great  growers  told 
me  that  he  had  tried  every  conceivable  plan  for  keeping 
Apples,  but  that  nothing  answered  so  well  as  laying  them 
simply  on  open,  well-aired  shelves  in  a  fruit-house  that 
was  kept  free  from  frost. 

Trades cantia  virginica  (Spiderworts)  are  plants  that 
do  admirably  in  light  soils,  and  flower  two  or  three  times 


104    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

in  the  summer,  wanting  nothing  beyond  thinning-out 
and  transplanting,  and  dividing  in  the  autumn.  The  pale- 
blue  and  the  white  are  even  more  beautiful  than  the  dark- 
blue  and  the  red-purple ;  but  they  are  all  worth  having, 
with  their  quaint-shaped  flowers,  so  unlike  other  things. 
Every  year,  towards  the  end  of  May,  I  put  in  cuttings  of 
Lavender  and  Eosemary.  If  the  weather  is  dry,  they  are 
what  gardeners  call  '  puddled-in,'  which  means  that  the 
ground  is  very  much  wetted  first.  In  this  way  I  have 
a  constant  supply  of  young  plants.  Eosemary  is  only 
really  hardy  with  us  if  planted  under  the  protection  of 
large  shrubs  ;  the  keen  winds  of  March  cut  them  off  in 
the  open.  Many  other  plants  can  be  increased  in  the 
same  way — early  flowering  shrubs  such  as  Ribes  san- 
guinum,  the  Forsythias,  &c.  Last  spring,  in  Suffolk,  I 
saw  a  charming  little  garden-hedge  made  of  Ribes  san- 
guinum,  all  one  brilliant  mass  of  its  flowers.  This  is  quite 
worth  trying ;  its  success  would  depend  on  its  being 
sharply  pruned  back  the  moment  after  flowering  and 
before  its  seeds  ripen.  If  your  cuttings  take,  you  can 
make  your  hedge  in  October.  It  is  rather  a  repetition  of 
the  well-known  and  often-seen  Sweetbriar  hedge,  which 
is  all  the  better  in  a  light  soil  for  cutting  back  the  young 
growths  in  July  as  well  as  for  the  spring  pruning.  It  is 
a  very  good  plan  this  month  to  take  off  some  of  the 
shoots — apt  to  be  too  numerous — that  sprout  on  the 
pruned-back  creepers,  such  as  White  Jasmine,  Vines 
of  all  kinds,  and  Bignonia  radicans,  which  handsome 
old  garden  favourite  buds  so  late  that  the  flowers  do  not 
expand  unless  treated  in  this  way. 

May  2%nd. — Not  the  smallest  and  dryest  garden  should 
be  without  Stachys  lanata,  a  white  woolly  leaved  plant, 
called  Eabbit's  Ears  by  cottage  children,  and  particularly 
attractive  to  some  people,  who  through  life  retain  the 
love  of  a  child  for  something  woolly  and  soft.  Certain 


MAY 


T°5 


characteristics  are  always  reminding  us,  especially  in 
some  women,  even  when  old,  that  they  were  once  child- 
ren. These  leaves  were  formerly  used  as  edgings  to  beds 
in  a  very  objectionable  way ;  but  when  grown  in  large 
clumps,  they  are  most  useful  for  picking.  When  cut,  they 
go  on  growing  in  water,  as  Buttercups  and  Forget-me- 
nots  do,  and  mix  very  well  with  many  flowers,  especially 
with  Narcissus  poeticus,  any  of  the  German  Irises,  and 
the  lovely  white  Scilla  campanulata,  a  cheap  bulb,  of 
which  we  can  hardly  have  too  many.  There  is  a  blue 
and  a  pink  kind,  but  the  white  is  the  most  lovely ;  and,  in 
my  opinion,  all  three  are  better  worth  growing  than  the 
usual  Hyacinths,  double  or  single.  I  think  the  people 
who  live  in  the  country  in  spring  would  find  it  more 
satisfactory  to  grow  their  greenhouse  bulbs  in  large,  open 
pans,  several  together,  and  covered  with  some  of  the 
mossy  Saxifrages,  than  the  usual  two  or  three  in  a  pot 
that  gardeners  are  so  fond  of.  If  the  pan  has  no  hole  at 
the  bottom  for  drainage,  you  must  put  in  lots  of  crocks, 
and  be  careful  not  to  over-water;  but  bulbs  like  their 
roots  moist. 

I  made  a  curious  experiment  with  the  little  double 
Prunus.  One  moved  last  autumn,  and  one  moved  last 
spring  out  of  the  nursery  into  a  sunny,  sheltered  border, 
are  both  covered  with  bloom,  and  lovely  objects. 
Another  plant,  which  was  left  in  a  sunny  border  for  a 
year,  has  no  bloom  on  it  at  all,  though  it  is  quite  healthy. 
This  is  one  more  proof  of  how  much  is  to  be  done  with 
reserve  gardens  and  moving  in  this  light  dry  soil.  Next 
month  I  shall  choose  a  wet  day,  and  move  them  all 
back  again  into  the  nursery.  The  white  Dog-tooth 
Violet  and  the  various  Fritillarias  are  very  satisfactory 
things.  They  like  shade  and  a  certain  amount  of  moist- 
ure, but  it  is  not  necessary  for  their  cultivation;  they 
will  grow  anywhere.  The  common  Saxifraga,  London 


io6     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

Pride,  is  a  most  desirable,  useful  plant ;  it  is  the  better 
for  dividing  every  two  years.  It  travels  well  picked,  and 
is  so  pretty  and  decorative  in  water ;  it  looks  well  with 
large  red  Oriental  Poppies,  with  no  green  at  all.  Silene, 
too,  looks  well  with  it  in  small  glasses,  for  a  change. 

Deutzia  crenata  is  a  charming  shrub,  and  flowering 
well  this  year.  Unless  the  garden  is  very  small,  anyone 
who  lives  in  the  country  in  spring  ought  to  have  it. 
There  is  so  little  room  for  shrubs  in  a  very  small  plot  of 
ground,  and  no  garden  can  be  beautiful  except  when  the 
lie  of  the  ground  and  the  surrounding  circumstances  are 
beautiful.  The  only  ambition  that  can  be  indulged  in 
with  a  small  flat  ground  is  to  grow  the  greatest  number 
of  healthy  plants  possible  in  the  least  amount  of  space, 
and  so  secure  continuous  and  varied  flowers  for  nine 
months  of  the  year. 

The  planning  and  laying-out  of  a  small  garden  without 
great  natural  advantages  ought  to  be  as  practical  and 
simple  as  possible,  a  mere  improvement  on  the  cottage 
garden : — A  small,  straight  path  of  brick  or  paving- stone, 
or  grass  or  gravel,  though  that  is  the  least  desirable  of 
all  to  my  mind.  Let  beds  be  on  either  side.  If  you  have 
shrubs  round  the  edge  of  the  garden  to  hide  the  paling, 
have  a  grass  path  in  front  of  the  shrubs,  and  then  square 
or  long  beds  in  the  middle.  Never  have  a  small  lawn 
with  beds  cut  in  that ;  nothing  gives  so  much  labour  and 
so  little  satisfaction  as  beds  cut  out  of  grass,  and  what 
makes  them  uglier  still  is  bordering  them  again  with 
some  plant.  The  flowers  are  much  better  out  in  the 
open,  away  from  the  moisture-devouring  shrubs.  In 
gardening,  as  in  many  things  in  life,  let  your  wits  improve 
on  what  is  rather  below  you ;  never  look  at  the  squire's  big 
garden  in  your  neighbourhood,  and  then  try  and  imitate  it 
in  small.  Nothing  makes  a  more  charming  edging  for 
beds,  if  you  have  gravel  paths,  than  large  flat  stones ; 


MAY  107 

they  retain  the  moisture,  and  many  small,  low-growing 
things  feather  over  the  stones  and  look  very  well  indeed. 

May  %8th. — After  a  great  deal  of  practice  I  really 
think  I  have  evolved  a  way  of  packing  cut  flowers 
which  is  both  economical  and  satisfactory.  I  collect  all 
the  linen-draper's  and  milliner's  cardboard  boxes  that  I 
possibly  can ;  while  these  remain  good,  my  friends  send 
them  back  to  me  by  parcel  post.  The  flowers  are  picked 
over-night,  and  put  into  large  pans  of  water,  keeping  each 
kind  in  separate  bunches.  In  the  morning  they  are  dried, 
and  the  different  bunches  are  rolled  up,  fairly  tightly,  in 
newspaper — the  great  point  being  to  exclude  the  air 
entirely  both  from  the  stalks  and  flowers.  These 
bundles  are  then  laid  flat  in  the  boxes ;  the  tighter  they 
are  packed,  without  actually  crushing  them,  the  better 
they  travel.  The  lid  is  then  put  on,  the  box  tied  up 
with  string,  and  sent  to  the  station  in  time  for  an  early 
train. 

When  friends  themselves  take  away  the  flowers,  a  box 
is  unnecessary,  as  the  separate  bundles  can  be  tied  up 
together  in  some  large  sheets  of  newspaper. 

May  29^. — An  excellent  fish  sauce  is  to  beat  some 
cream,  and  drop  into  it  a  little  anchovy  sauce  from  a 
quite  recently  opened  bottle.  It  is  served  cold,  in  a  little 
deep  dish,  not  in  a  sauce-boat. 

Here  is  an  Italian  receipt  for  Risotto  : — Take  a  sauce- 
pan that  holds  about  a  quart,  cut  up  a  fair-sized  onion 
into  very  small  pieces,  let  it  brown  to  a  good  golden  colour 
in  some  fresh  butter.  Add  the  rice,  raw  and  well  washed, 
and  let  it  cook  slowly,  stirring  well  for  about  five  minutes. 
Add  the  saffron  (half  a  thimbleful,  well  pounded),  pour 
in  the  stock  by  degrees  as  needed  by  the  quantity  of 
rice.  When  the  rice  is  done,  draw  it  to  one  side,  and  add 
some  grated  Parmesan  cheese.  Stir  it  gently  and  serve, 
sprinkling  some  Parmesan  on  the  top. 


io8  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

A  good  breakfast  or  lunch  dish  is  called  '  Convent 
Eggs '  : — Boil  four  eggs  for  ten  minutes.  Put  them  in 
cold  water.  Peel,  and  slice  thin,  one  onion.  Put  into 
a  frying-pan  1  oz.  of  butter ;  when  melted,  add  the 
onion  and  fry  white.  Then  add  a  teaspoonful  of  flour ; 
mix  it  well.  Add  about  half  a  pint  of  milk,  till  it  forms  a 
nice  white  sauce,  half  a  teaspoonful  of  salt,  and  a  quarter 
ditto  of  pepper.  When  nicely  done,  add  the  eggs — cut  into 
six  pieces  each,  crossways.  Toss  them  up ;  when  hot, 
serve  on  toast. 

Gascony  Butter. — Take  equal  quantities  of  parsley 
(picked  from  the  stalk  and  parboiled),  of  anchovies 
(washed,  boned,  and  pounded),  and  of  fresh  butter.  Mix 
the  ingredients  well  together,  and  pass  them  through  a 
hair-sieve.  Make  into  pats  or  balls,  ice  them,  and  serve 
with  hot  dry  toast. 

Here  is  an  old  Indian  receipt  for  curry  powder  :— 
1  Ib.  of  coriander  seed,  \  oz.  of  red  chilli,  1  oz.  of  black 
pepper,  4  oz.  of  cummin  seed,  3  oz.  of  fenniquick,  1  Ib.  of 
turmeric,  1  oz.  of  dry  ginger,  and  1  oz.  of  poppy  seed. 

For  making  curry,  take  1^  Ib.  of  meat  cut  into  dice 
(mutton  is  perhaps  the  best),  2  oz.  of  butter,  1  large 
onion  (the  size  of  a  large  potato)  and  a  large  apple,  one 
dessertspoonful  and  a  half  of  curry  powder,  and  a  tea- 
cupful  of  stock.  First  melt  the  butter ;  then  fry  the 
onion  and  apple,  cut  small,  till  quite  brown.  Then  add 
the  curry  powder ;  then  the  meat,  cut  into  small  pieces, 
and  fry  it  in  the  above  till  quite  brown,  turning  the  meat 
constantly  to  keep  it  from  burning.  Then  put  the  whole 
into  a  saucepan,  add  the  stock,  and  place  it  near  the  fire 
to  simmer  for  3f  or  4  hours.  If  it  gets  too  dry,  add  a 
little  more  stock.  Mutton  wants  no  butter  added  at  the 
end,  but  chickens  and  rabbits  do. 

To  boil  Patna  Rice  for  Curry.— Put  3  quarts  of 
spring  water  in  a  saucepan  to  boil,  and  add  \  Ib.  of  rice. 


MAY 


109 


Let  it  boil  as  fast  as  possible,  with  the  lid  off.  Keep 
skimming  it  all  the  time.  When  done  (which  means  that 
it  is  soft,  but  with  a  little  hardness  left  in  the  middle), 
strain  it  off  onto  a  sieve,  and  then  let  cold  water  run  on 
it  till  it  becomes  quite  cold.  Put  it  back  into  the  saucepan 
without  water,  to  get  hot  enough  for  table.  It  should  take 
1  hour  to  get  hot ;  it  will  be  a  bad  colour  if  hurried. 

Curry  of  Ham  Toast.— This  receipt  is  useful  to 
finish  up  an  old  ham : — 8  oz.  of  lean  ham  chopped  very 
fine,  1  teaspoonful  of  Harvey  and  1  of  Worcester  sauce, 
1  teaspoonful  of  curry  paste,  a  small  piece  of  butter,  a 
good  tablespoonful  of  white  sauce,  and  2  tablespoonfuls 
of  thick  cream.  All  these  should  be  mixed  together  and 
heated.  Cut  some  rounds  of  toast,  and  serve  very  hot. 

The  following  receipt  for  bottling  green  Gooseberries  I 
think  you  will  find  useful.  The  great  point  is  to  pick 
them  just  at  the  right  moment,  when  neither  too  large 
nor  too  small.  And  much  depends  on  waxing  the  corks 
well ;  so  I  add  the  receipt  for  that. 

Bottled  Green  Gooseberries. — Pick  off  noses  and 
stalks,  but  be  careful  not  to  burst  the  berries.  Then  fill 
some  wide-mouthed  bottles  quite  full,  tie  over  the  mouths 
paper  with  pricked  holes,  stand  the  bottles  in  boiling 
water,  and  just  let  the  fruit  turn  colour  (no  sugar  or  any- 
thing with  the  fruit).  Take  the  bottles  out,  and  cork 
and  seal  them.  The  old  way  was  to  bury  them  head 
downwards  in  a  garden  border ;  but  if  well  sealed,  to  keep 
out  all  air,  I  do  not  believe  that  is  necessary.  Green 
Currants  are  excellent  done  the  same  way,  and  Morella 
Cherries,  small  Plums,  and  Damsons ;  only  these  must 
be  ripe. 

Wax  for  Bottles.— 2  parts  of  beeswax,  1  part  of  resin, 
1  part  powdered  colour  (Venetian  red).  Melt  the  beeswax 
and  resin  in  an  old  iron  saucepan.  (Only  melt,  do  not 
boil.)  Then  stir  in  the  colour  and  let  it  cool  a  little,  both 


no  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

to  avoid  the  pungent  vapours  and  to  thicken  slightly. 
Dip  the  corked  tops  of  the  bottles  while  holding  them 
horizontally  over  the  pot,  and  turn  them  round,  so  as  to 
run  the  extra  stuff  into  the  joint ;  they  are  the  better  for  a 
second  dip.  Leave  the  remains  of  the  wax  to  harden  in 
the  pot,  which  should  be  used  for  this  purpose  only.  It  can 
be  melted  again  at  any  time,  and  more  added  as  wanted. 
May  3Qth. — A  good  deal  of  real  gardening  pleasure 
and  satisfactory  ornamental  effect  is  to  be  had  from 
growing  plants  in  pots  and  tubs,  vases  and  vessels  of  all 
kinds,  both  in  small  and  big  gardens.  I  use  large  Sea- 
kale  pots,  when  they  are  no  longer  wanted  for  the 
Sea-kale,  by  turning  them  upside  down,  putting  two  bits 
of  slate  in  the  bottom  of  the  pot,  some  drainage  and  a 
few  lumps  of  turf,  and  filling  it  up  with  really  good  soil. 
As  a  variety  a  Rhubarb-pot  is  useful.  If  you  live  near  a 
pottery,  they  will  turn  you  out  pots  to  any  shape  you 
fancy.  Flat  ones,  like  those  used  by  house-painters, 
make  a  pleasant  change,  especially  for  small  bulbs  ;  also 
petroleum  casks  cut  in  two,  burnt  inside,  then  tarred  and 
painted.  It  must  never,  of  course,  be  in  any  case  for- 
gotten to  have  holes  large  enough  to  make  good  drainage. 
I  use  butter  casks  treated  in  the  same  way,  and  have 
some  little  oak  tubs  in  which  bullion  came  from  America. 
These  are  very  strong ;  and  some  water-loving  plants  do 
much  better  in  wood,  since  the  evaporation  in  summer  is 
not  nearly  so  rapid  as  from  the  earthenware.  That  is  an 
important  thing  to  remember,  both  as  regards  sun  and 
wind.  If  the  plants  are  at  all  delicate,  and  brought  out  of 
a  greenhouse,  the  pots,  when  standing  out,  ought  to  be 
either  quite  sunk  into  the  earth  or  shaded.  This  cannot, 
of  course,  be  done  in  the  case  of  pots  placed  on  a  wall  or 
terrace,  or  on  a  stand ;  constant  care  about  watering  is, 
therefore,  essential.  Even  in  wet  weather  they  often 
want  more  water  if  the  sun  comes  out,  as  the  rain 


MAY  in 

wets  the  leaves,  but  hardly  affects  the  soil  at  all. 
On  the  Continent,  where  all  kinds  of  pot-cultivation 
have  been  longer  practised  than  in  England,  flower- 
pots are  often  glazed  outside,  which  keeps  the  plants 
much  moister,  and  makes  less  necessity  for  frequent 
watering.  The  French,  especially,  understand  much 
better  than  we  do  the  potting-on  of  plants.  They  begin 
by  putting  seeds  into  pots  no  bigger  than  a  thimble, 
and  sinking  them  in  boxes  with  cocoanut  fibre ;  the  little 
plants  are  then  potted-on  very  gradually,  never  injuring 
the  roots  at  all.  The  merciless  way  in  which  gardeners 
often  tear  off  the  roots  collected  at  the  bottom  of  a  pot  is 
most  injurious  to  the  plant.  The  large  red  jars  that  still 
bring  oil  from  Italy,  covered  with  their  delightful  coarse 
wicker-work,  are  useful  ornaments  in  some  gardens.  They 
are  glazed  inside,  and  boring  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of 
them  is  not  very  easy  work.  They  have  to  be  more  than 
half  filled  with  drainage ;  and  plants  do  not  do  well  in 
them  for  more  than  one  season,  as  the  surface  of  earth 
exposed  at  the  top  is  so  small.  In  old  days  the  oil 
merchants  in  the  suburbs  of  London  used  to  cut  them 
in  two  vertically,  and  stick  them  against  their  houses 
above  their  shops,  as  an  advertisement  or  ornament. 
Enthusiastic  amateurs  will  find  that  they  get  two  very 
nice  pots  by  sawing  them  in  half  horizontally,  just  below 
the  sham  handles.  The  top  part,  when  reversed,  requires 
the  same  treatment  as  was  recommended  for  the  Sea-kale 
pots.  Many  different  things  may  be  grown  for  standing 
out  of  doors  in  the  large  pots  and  tubs  above  described, 
and  one  plant  may  succeed  another.  The  first  rule,  I 
think,  is  to  grow  in  them  those  plants  which  do  not  grow 
especially  well  in  your  own  local  soil.  To  put  into  a  pot 
what  is  flourishing  much  better  in  a  bed  a  few  yards  off 
is,  to  my  mind,  a  mistake. 

I  grow  in  pots  large  old  plants  of  Geraniums — Henry 


ii2     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

Jacoby  is  especially  good.  They  are  kept  on  in  the 
greenhouse  from  year  to  year,  their  roots  tied  up  in  rnoss 
and  crowded  into  a  pot  or  box  with  no  earth  and  very 
little  water  through  the  winter  ;  early  in  April  they  are 
potted-up  and  protected  by  mats  in  a  pit,  as  we  have  no 
room  for  them  in  the  greenhouse.  This  causes  them  to 
be  somewhat  pot-bound,  and  they  flower  brilliantly  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  summer.  French  Marguerites  (the 
yellow  and  the  white)  with  large  leaves  are  good  pot-plants 
early  in  the  year — far  prettier  than  the  narrow-leaved 
kinds.  A  double  Pomegranate  I  have  had  for  many 
years  in  a  pot;  and  if  pruned  out  in  the  summer,  it 
flowers  well.  The  large,  old-fashioned,  oak-leaved,  sticky 
Cape  Sweet  Geranium,  which  has  a  handsomer  flower 
than  the  other  kinds,  makes  a  very  good  outdoor  pot-plant. 
In  potting-up  strong,  growing  plants  that  are  to  remain  in 
the  pets  for  some  time,  it  is  useful  to  put  some  broken-up 
bones  with  the  crocks  at  the  bottom  of  the  pots  for  the 
roots  to  cling  to  them. 

Fuchsias,  especially  the  old-fashioned  fulgens,  are 
satisfactory.  Carnations— Eaby  Castle,  Countess  of  Paris, 
and  Mrs.  Eeynolds  Hole — I  grow  in  pots,  and  they  do 
extremely  well ;  they  must  be  layered  early  in  July,  and 
answer  best  if  potted  up  in  September  and  just  protected 
from  severe  frosts.  This  year  we  took  up  a  large  clump  of 
Montbretias  out  of  a  dry  sunny  bed  of  Cape  bulbs  in  the 
kitchen  garden,  just  as  they  were  coming  through  the 
ground,  and  dropped  them  into  a  large  Sea-kale  pot. 
They  flowered  exceedingly  well,  and  in  September  we 
put  them  back  in  the  dry  border  to  die  down.  In  fine 
summers  Myrtles  and  Oleanders  flower  well  with  us  in 
tubs,  not  in  the  open  ground.  We  treat  Oleanders  as 
they  do  in  Germany — cut  them  back  moderately  in  October, 
and  dry  them  off,  keeping  them  in  a  coach-house,  warm 
shed,  or  wherever  severe  frosts  will  not  reach  them. 


MAY  113 

When  quite  dry,  they  stand  a  moderate  amount  of  frost. 
Then  in  March  they  are  brought  out,  the  ground  is 
stirred  and  mulched,  and  they  are  taken  into  a  greenhouse 
and  brought  on  a  bit.  In  May  they  are  thickly  covered 
with  good  strong  horse-manure  and  copiously  watered. 
At  the  end  of  the  month  they  are  stood  out  in  the  open 
on  a  low  wall.  During  May,  June,  and  July  they  cannot 
have  too  much  water ;  after  that  they  want  much  less,  or 
the  leaves  turn  yellow  and  drop  off.  Campanula  pyrami- 
dalis  (see  *  English  Flower  Garden '),  a  biennial,  does  well 
in  pots,  if  shaded — blue  and  white  both  in  one  pot,  or  apart. 
The  seedlings  have  to  be  potted  up  in  autumn  (plants  a 
year  old)  ;  as  with  the  Canterbury  Bells,  if  you  cut 
off  the  fading  flowers  the  flowering  season  is  much  pro- 
longed. Canterbury  Bells  (Campanula  medium)  make 
charming  pot-plants  for  large  rooms  or  corridors  in 
May  or  June.  They  are  annuals,  and  the  seed  can 
be  sown  out  of  doors  in  March  or  April,  keeping  the 
seedlings  well  thinned,  transplanting  in  the  autumn,  and 
potting-up  the  following  spring  (see  'English  Flower 
Garden ').  If  strong  crowns  of  Campanula  persicifolia 
are  potted  up  in  autumn,  they  force  beautifully  in  a 
moderate  greenhouse  in  spring,  and  are  most  satisfactory 
for  picking  or  otherwise. 

Some  years  I  grow  Solanum  jasminoides  over  bent 
wires  in  pots;  they  are  rather  pretty.  Clethra  (Sweet 
Pepper  Bush),  a  small  North  American  shrub,  we  lifted 
from  the  reserve  garden  in  June  and  put  into  a  pot,  and 
it  flowered  very  well.  The  variety  of  plants  which  can 
be  experimented  upon  for  growing  in  pots  out  of  doors 
in  summer  is  almost  endless.  Love-lies-bleeding  (Ama- 
ranthus  caudatus)  is  an  annual ;  but  if  sown  in  January, 
and  very  well  grown-on  as  a  fine  single  specimen  plant, 
it  looks  handsome  and  uncommon  in  a  green  glazed 
pot  or  small  tub.  Nothing  we  grow  in  pots  is  more 

i 


ii4     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

satisfactory  than  the  old-fashioned  Calceolaria  amplexi- 
caulis.  It  does  not  grow  to  any  perfection  in  the  beds, 
the  soil  being  too  dry ;  but,  potted,  it  makes  a  splendid 
show  through  the  late  summer  and  autumn  months.  A 
red-brown  kind,  little  grown  now,  which  I  brought  from 
Ireland,  and  which  I  cannot  name,  also  succeeds  very 
well.  They  both  want  potting-up  in  good  soil  in  April. 
The  shrubby  Veronicas  (Speciosa  rubra,  Imperialis,  and 
the  variegated  Andersoni)  I  grow  in  pots  because  they 
flower  beautifully  in  the  autumn ;  and  the  drowsy  bumble- 
bees love  to  lie  on  them,  in  the  sunshine,  when  the 
Sedum  spectabile  is  passing  away.  They  are  not  quite 
hardy  with  us,  as  they  cannot  withstand  the  long,  dry,  cold 
springs.  This  in  itself  justifies  the  growing  them  in 
pots  ;  in  mild,  damp  districts  they  are  large  shrubs.  The 
small  bushy  Michaelmas  Daisies  we  put  into  pots  at  the 
end  of  July,  and  they  fill  up  blank  spaces  on  the  wall 
late  in  the  year. 

The  blue  Cape  Agapanthus  everybody  grows  in  tubs. 
They  have  to  be  rather  pot-bound  and  kept  dry  in  the 
winter,  to  flower  well ;  as  the  flower-buds  form,  they  want 
to  be  well  watered  and  a  weekly  dose  of  liquid  manure. 
Hydrangeas  I  find  difficult  to  grow  when  planted  out. 
The  common  kinds  do  exceedingly  well  in  tubs,  in  half- 
shady  places,  if  they  get  a  good  deal  of  water.  A  varie- 
gated half-hardy  shrub  called  Procosma  variegata  makes 
a  showy  and  yet  restrained  pot-plant.  Large  standard 
Myrtles  I  have  had  covered  with  blooms  in  August  in 
tubs.  My  large  old  plant,  which  I  had  had  many  years, 
was  killed  this  spring  by  being  turned  out  of  the  room  it 
had  wintered  in  too  early,  because  we  came  from  London 
sooner  than  usual.  The  great  difficulty  in  small  places 
is  housing  these  large  plants  in  winter.  They  do  not 
want  much  protection,  but  they  must  have  some ;  and  the 
death  of  large  old  plants  is  grievous.  We  have  just  built 


MAY  115 

a  new  greenhouse,  which  we  are  going  to  try  with  no 
heating  beyond  a  lamp-stove  in  very  cold  weather.  If  I 
lived  in  the  country  in  the  winter,  I  should  grow  small 
Evergreens  in  pots  and  try  various  experiments,  which 
are  of  no  use  to  me,  as  I  live  in  London.  In  many  cases 
the  plants  would  not  get  injured  by  frost  if  one  pot  were 
sunk  inside  another. 


i2 


16     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 


JUNE 

Hands  and  fingers  after  weeding — Shrub-pruning — Boxes  for  birds — 
Bobins  in  greenhouse — 'Burning  Bush' — Two  Polygonums— 
Strawberries — Geraniums  and  cuttings — Cactuses — Freesia  bulbs 
— Qloriosa  superba — Luncheon  dishes — Cucumbers. 

June  2nd. — It  must  be  admitted  that  one  of  the  great 
drawbacks  to  gardening  and  weeding  is  the  state  into 
which  the  hands  and  fingers  get.  Unfortunately,  one's 
hands  belong  not  only  to  oneself,  but  to  the  family,  who  do 
not  scruple  to  tell  the  gardening  amateur  that  her  appear- 
ance is  '  revolting.'  Constant  washing  and  always  keeping 
them  smooth  and  soft  by  a  never-failing  use  of  vaseline — 
or,  still  better,  a  mixture  of  glycerine  and  starch,  kept  ready 
on  the  washstand  to  use  after  washing  and  before  drying 
the  hands — are  the  best  remedies  I  know.  Old  dog-skin 
or  old  kid  gloves  are  better  for  weeding  than  the  so-called 
gardening  gloves;  and  for  many  purposes  the  wash- 
leather  housemaid's  glove,  sold  at  any  village  shop,  is 
invaluable.  Good  gardeners  tell  you  never  to  cut  flowers 
except  with  a  sharp  knife.  This  is  good  advice  for  shrubs 
or  pot-plants,  the  clean  cut  being  better  for  the  plants ; 
but  I  advise  that  the  knife  should  be  on  a  steel  chain  a 
foot  or  so  long,  with  a  good  pair  of  garden  hook-shaped 
scissors  at  the  other  end — for  the  cutting  of  annuals  or 
lately  planted  plants  with  a  knife,  in  light  soil,  is  very 
much  to  be  avoided.  The  smallest  pull  loosens  the  roots, 
and  immediate  death,  in  hot  weather,  is  the  result.  Another 
advantage  of  knife  and  scissors  together  on  the  chain  is 


JUNE  117 

that  they  are  more  easy  to  find  when  mislaid,  or  lost  in 
the  warm  and  bushy  heart  of  some  plant. 

June  4:th. — Now,  and  even  a  little  earlier,  is  the  great 
pruning-time  of  the  year  for  all  spring-flowering  shrubs. 
No  doubt  this  cutting-out  may  be  especially  important  in 
a  light  soil  such  as  ours,  where  things  flower  themselves  to 
death,  like  pot-bound  plants.  It  is  rather  tiresome  work  ; 
it  requires  one  person  to  cut  out  the  old  wood  and 
slightly  cut  back  the  topmost  branches  with  a  long- 
handled  nipper,  and  another  to  stand  at  a  little  distance 
and  give  directions.  Without  this  precaution,  the  tree  or 
shrub  would  often  become  lop-sided  and  unsightly.  It  is 
impossible  for  the  man  who  is  cutting  to  see  what  should 
be  taken  out.  Choisya  ternata  must  be  gone  over  and 
cut  back  severely,  in  spite  of  all  one  may  have  gathered 
from  it  while  in  flower.  Also  with  Lilacs,  Laburnums, 
Weigelias,  Crab-apples,  Double  Cherries,  Viburnum,  and 
Pyrus  japonica,  this  pruning — at  any  rate,  in  light  soils — 
must  never  be  neglected  or  forgotten.  Very  often  only  a 
little  cutting-out  is  required.  If  it  is  done  too  late,  it  does 
more  harm  than  good,  and  injures  next  year's  bloom. 
Clematis  montana  succeeds  much  better  if  the  young 
growth  is  cut  off  every  year,  which  prevents  it  from 
getting  tangled  and  matted,  and  all  going  to  leaf  instead 
of  blossom.  It  is  the  same  with  Honeysuckles  and 
Brooms.  We  sow  the  Brooms— white,  yellow,  and  red 
and  yellow — every  year.  They  can  always  be  transplanted 
when  quite  young  to  where  they  are  to  flower,  and  a  good 
supply  of  young  plants  is  so  useful. 

The  bird-boxes  this  spring  have  been  well  used  by  my 
little  couples.  Fly-catchers  and  Wrens  never  fail;  but 
this  year  we  have  had  rather  an  uncommon  bird,  a  Bed- 
start,  and  in  the  nest  are  seven  eggs,  though  Bewick  asserts 
that  they  only  lay  four  or  five.  The  eggs  are  pretty 
in  colour,  like  the  Hedge-sparrow's.  The  Bed-start's 


n8  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

eggs  are  a  little  longer  and  narrower  in  shape  than 
the  Hedge-sparrow's.  A  pair  of  Kobins  have  hatched  out 
three  families  this  year  in  my  greenhouse — fourteen 
young  Eobins  !  They  began  early  in  March,  and  built  on 
a  top-shelf ;  when  the  little  ones  were  hatched,  the  old 
birds  were  so  tame  that  they  did  not  mind  at  all  our 
putting  the  nest  into  a  deep  pot  and  placing  it  near  the 
window  for  them  to  feed  their  young  more  conveniently. 
We  also  thought  that  in  the  pot  it  would  attract  less  the 
attention  of  a  terrible  bird-killing  old  cat  we  have.  He 
stays  near  a  nest,  scratching,  till  the  parent  birds  are  in 
such  a  frenzy  of  agitation  and  fear  that  they  kick  the 
young  ones  out  of  the  nest ;  he  then  devours  them  at  his 
leisure. 

To  those  who  have  room  I  recommend  the  Venetian 
Sumach  (Rhus  cotinus),  but  it  is  not  worth  growing  if  it 
is  crowded  up.  The  most  perfect  way  to  grow  it  is  to 
put  the  young  plant  in  a  well  and  richly  made  hole  in  the 
lawn,  or  at  the  edge  of  a  shrubbery,  the  formality  of  which 
you  wish  to  break.  As  it  grows,  cut  away  the  turf  from 
under  it,  and  mulch  it  every  winter  ;  this  makes  it  grow 
quickly.  When  it  gets  into  a  good  big  plant,  leave  off 
mulching,  and  dress  it  with  chalk,  which  will  make  it 
flower  and  bear  its  lovely  feathery  seeds  in  July.  In  a 
good  sunny  situation  it  will  turn  a  flaming  red  colour, 
which  is  the  reason  for  its  English  name  of  the '  Burning 
Bush.'  It  does  better  in  moderately  damp  soils  than  with 
us,  but  a  little  care  will  make  it  grow  anywhere.  It  is 
well  adapted  for  picking  and  putting  into  water,  as  the 
leaves  have  a  faint  aromatic  smell ;  but  it  is  not  suited  to 
very  small  gardens,  for  it  spreads  and  takes  up  too  much 
room.  Crowding  spoils  its  great  characteristic  of  rooting 
into  the  ground  all  round. 

The  finer  sorts  of  Clematis  (see  '  English  Flower 
Garden  ')  only  do  fairly  well  in  our  soil ;  and  till  I  gave 


JUNE  119 

them  plenty  of  chalk  they  often  died.  All  the  large 
Jackmani  tribe  (see  nurserymen's  catalogues)  want 
cutting  back  to  the  ground  very  early  in  the  year,  before 
they  begin  to  break  in  the  spring  ;  but  they  are  worth  all 
care  and  trouble.  Many  gardeners  do  not  agree  with  me, 
but  I  am  very  fond  of  specimen  plants  grown  in  holes 
cut  in  grass,  if  they  are  planted  with  care,  to  group 
with  shrubs  behind  them,  and  so  as  not  to  present  a 
dotted-about  appearance.  In  large  gardens  there  are 
places  enough — in  shrubberies,  by  the  side  of  water,  or 
elsewhere — where  these  single  specimens  can  grow 
healthily.  In  really  small  gardens  they  take  too  much 
room.  In  medium-sized  gardens  they  become  a  feature 
and  an  interest.  Several  plants,  besides  the  Venetian 
Sumach  before  mentioned,  are  such  fine  growers  that 
they  are  well  worth  an  individual  place  to  show  them 
off:- 

Polygonum  cuspidatum  and  P.  sacchalinense  are  very 
effective,  and  grow  splendidly  in  dry  soils  if  the  out- 
side suckers  are  pulled  out  every  spring ;  they  want  no 
other  care.  Bocconia  cor  da  ta  (Plume  Poppy),  a  Japanese 
plant,  also  wants  no  other  treatment ;  and  in  this  way  the 
old  shoots  grow  up  finer  and  stronger  each  year.  They  are 
herbaceous,  like  the  Polygonums,  and  it  is  best  not  to  cut 
down  their  hollow  stems  till  the  spring.  Leycesteria 
formosa  has  a  good  growth ;  its  uncommon  brown  flowers 
come  late  in  the  summer.  (Kerria  japonica,  especially 
the  single  one  mentioned  before ;  the  Privets,  the  golden 
one  and  the  Alexandrian  are  the  best.)  Tamarisks,  so 
seldom  grown  away  from  the  sea,  which  are  very  pretty, 
especially  the  one  with  tiny  pink  flowers  that  come  out  in 
the  spring  (T.  parviflora,  I  believe  it  is  called) ;  and  many 
hardy  Bamboos  can  all  be  grown  separately  as  specimen 
plants;  as  also  the  two  Eulalias,  japonica  and  zebrina, 
the  tall  Japanese  grasses.  The  Arundo  donax  is  the 


120     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

lovely  tall  cane  that  grows  in  the  ditches  in  Italy.  But 
beware  how  you  move  it,  if  once  you  get  it  to  grow ;  it 
does  not  at  all  like  being  disturbed.  Acanthus  in  full 
sun  is  very  handsome,  and  grows  large  in  rather  a 
moist  place  ;  so  does  the  Giant  Parsnip,  but  it  is  only  a 
biennial. 

June  9th. — The  Strawberry  season  is  beginning.  For 
many  years  this  fruit  was  poison  to  me  ;  now  it  gives  me 
pleasure  to  think  that  I  live  almost  entirely  upon  it  for 
some  weeks  in  the  summer,  eating  it  three  times  a  day, 
and  very  little  else,  according  to  the  practice  of  Linnaeus, 
as  quoted  in  March.  It  is  of  great  importance  that  anyone 
who  has  room  to  grow  Strawberries  at  all  should  grow 
several  varieties — early,  medium,  or  late  (see  catalogues). 
For  ices,  creams,  jams,  &c.,  I  greatly  recommend  some  of 
the  high-flavoured,  old-fashioned  Hautboys ;  they  are  not 
very  easy  to  get.  The  fruit  grown  on  heavy  soils  round 
London  for  the  market  is  often  very  tasteless ;  but  one 
must  work  away  with  books  and  experience  to  get  good 
Strawberries  and  a  fairly  long  succession  of  them.  In 
growing  Strawberries,  everything  depends  on  making 
some  new  rows  every  year ;  layering  the  runners  early, 
too,  makes  a  great  difference  in  the  young  plants  the 
next  year.  '  Dainty  Dishes  '  has  some  instructive  old- 
fashioned  receipts  for  Strawberry  jam.  Strawberries  make 
an  excellent  compote  if  boiling  syrup  is  poured  over 
them.  Easpberries  are  much  better  treated  in  this  way. 
Currants  require  stewing.  It  improves  all  summer 
compotes  to  ice  them  well  before  serving. 

I  do  not  at  all  despise  planting  out  the  old-fashioned 
scarlet  and  crimson  Geraniums — Pelargoniums,  they  ought 
to  be  called.  Old  plants  are  very  much  better  than  the 
small  cuttings ;  but  I  have  a  few  of  these  as  well,  and  pots 
full  of  cuttings  of  the  sweet-leaved  kinds,  of  which  there 
are  so  many  varieties,  and  which  are  planted  out  the  first 


JUNE  121 

week  in  June.  Among  red  Geraniums,  nothing  is  so  fine 
and  satisfactory  as  Henry  Jacoby ;  it  is  a  very  steady 
bloomer,  and  has  a  fine  rich  colour.  When  you  are 
planting  out  your  Geraniums  and  cuttings,  do  not  forget 
that  some  must  be  kept  back  in  their  pots  and  given 
constant  care  and  attention  all  through  the  summer  for 
late  autumn  and  winter  flowering  in  the  greenhouse.  We 
keep  our  plants  for  winter  in  a  cold  frame  through  the 
summer,  and  carefully  pick  off  the  flower-buds.  Raspail 
is  an  excellent  double  variety  for  winter  picking.  One 
the  nurserymen  call  '  Raspail  Improved '  is  perhaps  what 
it  professes  to  be,  though  I  do  not  see  very  much 
difference.  It  is  because  I  live  in  London  in  the  winter 
that  I  so  much  recommend  double  Geraniums,  as  the 
flowers  of  the  single  kind  require  to  be  gummed  before 
they  are  packed.  If  not,  they  arrive  only  a  little  heap  of 
scarlet  petals  in  the  paper,  beautiful  and  lovely,  but  quite 
useless  for  putting  into  water. 

My  old  books  taught  me  to  take  an  interest  in  Cactuses, 
which  in  the  early  part  of  the  century  were  much  grown. 
They  are  very  easy  of  cultivation,  and  well  worth  growing 
for  those  who  spend  June  and  July  in  their  gardens. 
A  succession  must  be  aimed  at,  as  the  drawback  is  that 
the  blooms  only  last  a  short  time.  The  old  Cereus 
speciosissimus  surpasses  in  beauty  and  splendour  any 
garden  plant  I  know,  with  its  brilliant  scarlet  petals  shot 
with  the  richest  purple  and  its  handsome  white  tassel 
of  stamens.  Another  beautiful  flower  is  the  large  white 
night-flowering  Cereus  ;  and  if  brought,  when  just  about  to 
bloom,  into  the  hall  or  sitting-room,  its  delicious  perfume 
pervades  the  whole  house  for  twenty-four  hours,  if  not  for 
longer.  Although  Cactuses  are  very  easy  to  cultivate,  yet 
what  they  require  they  must  have,  or  they  do  not  flower 
at  all,  and  then  gardeners  throw  them  away.  Wholesome 
neglect  is  better  than  too  much  misdirected  care ;  they 


122     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

want  to  be  kept  very  dry,  and  not  too  warm  all  through 
the  winter,  but  quite  free  from  frost.  In  April  they  are 
re-potted,  if  they  seem  to  require  it ;  but  that  is  seldom. 
Once  started  into  growth,  they  want  heat,  light,  sun,  a 
little  nourishment,  and  plenty  of  watering  and  syringing, 
with  rain-water  if  possible  ;  hard  chalky  water  is  bad  for 
them.  When  they  have  done  flowering,  I  plant  them  out 
in  a  good  warm  border  till  the  middle  of  August.  This 
does  them  a  lot  of  good,  and  helps  them  very  much  to 
make  new  growth  ;  they  should  be  well  syringed  overhead 
while  growing.  Anyone  really  interested  in  Cactuses  will 
learn  all  they  want  to  know  in  a  little  book  called  '  Cactus 
Culture  for  Amateurs,'  by  W.  Watson.  The  old  and  long- 
neglected  taste  for  growing  Cactuses  is  certainly  reviving, 
and  some  of  the  finest  kinds  can  be  grown  with  very  little 
trouble  or  expense.  Mr.  Watson  is  Assistant  Curator  of 
the  Eoyal  Botanic  Gardens  at  Kew,  where  there  is  a  large 
collection  of  Cactuses.  He  writes  as  one  who  knows,  and 
the  book  is  full  of  practical  instructions. 

I  have  a  great  many  Stapelias,  South  African  plants 
rather  resembling  miniature  Cactuses  in  their  growth, 
and  requiring  the  same  treatment.  They  are  very  curious, 
and  are  described  in  a  modern  book  translated  from  the 
German,  called  the  '  Natural  History  of  Plants,'  as  belong- 
ing to  a  group  of  plants  called  '  indoloid.'  Sometimes  the 
scent  of  these  South  African  Stapelias  resembles  that  of 
decomposing  mammalian  flesh,  sometimes  of  rotten  fish, 
&c.  This,  of  course,  attracts  insects.  Flowers  provided 
with  indoloid  scents  resemble  animal  corpses  in  their 
colouring,  having  usually  livid  spots,  violet  streaks, 
and  red-brown  veins  on  a  greenish  or  a  fawn-coloured 
background.  All  the  same,  the  flowers  are  to  me 
curious  and  rather  beautiful,  so  entirely  unlike  anything 
else. 


JUNE  123 

This  month  is  the  time  to  sort  out  the  Freesia  bulbs 
that  have  been  drying  in  the  sun,  in  their  pots,  laid  on  one 
side  on  the  shelf  of  the  greenhouse.  The  largest  bulbs 
are  re-potted  now  or  in  July  in  good  strong  loamy  soil,  but 
hardly  watered  at  all  till  they  begin  to  show  through  the 
earth.  The  next-sized  bulbs  are  potted  a  month  later. 
When  the  quite  small  ones  are  put  into  a  box  to  grow  on 
for  next  year  they  are  too  small  to  flower.  Early  potting- 
up  of  Freesias  is  very  important  if  they  are  to  flower 
early. 

June  QQth. — For  anyone  with  a  small  stove  or  warm 
greenhouse  I  can  thoroughly  recommend  the  growing  of 
the  Gloriosa  superba  or  Creeping  Lily.  It  is  a  lovely 
and  curious  flower ;  it  lasts  very  long  in  water,  and 
flowers  continuously  for  two  or  three  months.  Its  culti- 
vation is  simple  enough  :  buy  the  bulbs  in  April,  pot  them 
up  in  good  Lily  soil  (see  Johnson's  '  Gardener's  Dic- 
tionary '  for  this  and  all  other  greenhouse  and  stove 
cultivation  of  plants),  start  them  in  heat,  and  grow  them 
up  wires  or  thin  branching  sticks,  or  anything  that  gives 
them  support ;  water  them  well  while  growing ;  and  as 
they  begin  to  go  off  after  flowering,  and  the  leaves  turn 
yellow,  dry  them  gradually  till  they  have  quite  died  down. 
Then  lay  the  pots  on  their  sides,  and  keep  them  quite 
dry,  but  in  a  warm  temperature,  till  you  re-pot  them  the 
following  spring.  The  flowers  are  lovely — crimson  and 
yellow,  with  crinkled,  turned-back  petals,  and  they  wedge 
so  well  in  small  flat  vases. 

In  the  last  century  the  disciples  of  Linnaeus  took  great 
pleasure  botanically  in  this  plant,  as  the  pistil  bends  at 
nearly  right  angles  in  a  most  curious  way,  to  insert  its 
stigma  amongst  the  stamens ;  and  it  is  a  good  illustra- 
tion of  the  sex  of  plants.  It  is  figured  in  that  old  book 
I  alluded  to  in  March  of  Erasmus  Darwin's,  called  the 


i24     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

'  Botanic  Garden,'  and  in  the  poem  named  '  The  Loves  of 
the  Plants  '  it  is  thus  spoken  of  :— 

Proud  Gloriosa  led  three  chosen  swains, 
The  blushing  captives  of  her  virgin  chains, 
When  Time's  rude  hand  a  bark  of  wrinkles  spread 
Bound  her  weak  limbs,  and  silver'd  o'er  her  head  ; 
Three  other  youths  her  riper  years  engage, 
The  flatter'd  victims  of  her  wily  age. 

I  must  acknowledge  that  I  have  watched  attentively 
a  great  many  blooms  of  'proud  Gloriosa,'  and  have 
admired  her  immensely,  but  I  never  could  see  the  differ- 
ence in  the  length  of  the  stamens,  or  that  first  one  set  of 
three  and  then  the  other  set  of  three  came  to  maturity. 

I  consider  it  quite  as  essential  for  amateurs  who  really 
care  about  their  gardens  to  grow  out-of-the-way  plants  in 
the  greenhouse  and  conservatory  as  in  the  garden.  Why 
should  only  just  a  few  easily  grown  and  eternally  repeated 
plants,  everywhere  the  same,  be  alone  chosen  from  the 
wonderful  and  beautiful  and  abundant  supply  that  Nature 
provides  us  with,  while  many  rarer  sorts,  with  a  little  care 
and  knowledge,  are  quite  suitable  for  growing  under  glass  ? 
A  study  of  Veitch's  or  Cannell's  catalogues,  and  looking 
up  the  names  in  Johnson's  '  Gardener's  Dictionary,'  makes 
a  selection  quite  easy,  even  if  you  cannot  visit  any  of  the 
first-class  excellent  nurseries  in  summer,  or  if  you  do  not 
possess  any  of  the  old  illustrated  books. 

June  %7th. — For  those  who  live  in  the  country,  or  those 
who  spend  the  early  summer  months  in  towns  and  have 
their  flowers  sent  up,  no  family  of  plants  are  more  useful 
than  the  Campanulas  (all  described  in  the  '  English 
Flower  Garden ').  Perhaps  the  one  we  could  least  do 
without  is  the  beautiful  C.  persicifolia.  It  takes  little 
room,  is  a  true  perennial,  and  divides  well  in  the  autumn. 
In  light  soils  it  flowers  better  if  treated  as  a  biennial  and 
sown  in  a  seed  bed  annually,  so  as  to  have  a  good  supply  of 


JUNE  !25 

young  plants  every  year.  The  seed  sown  in  June  or  July 
can  be  planted  out  in  October  and  potted  up  the  autumn- 
of  the  second  year  for  flowering  in  pots  in  the  early 
spring  in  a  greenhouse.  They  are  then  good  strong 
plants,  and  several  can  be  put  in  one  fairly  large  pot. 
C.  grandis  is  a  stronger  and  coarser  plant.  It  is  far 
more  beautiful  for  picking  if  grown  in  a  poor  soil  and 
under  the  shade  of  bushes  or  trees.  But  it  is  hardly 
worth  growing  in  a  small  garden,  though  it  is  what  I  call 
a  friend  among  plants  ;  it  gives  a  good  deal,  and  requires 
so  little,  and  looks  cool  and  beautiful  when  picked  and 
placed  by  itself  in  a  large  glass  bowl  filled  with  water. 
Its  tiny  rosette-like  leaf-growth  is  also  useful,  attractive, 
and  ornamental,  especially  in  the  autumn.  It  travels  as 
well  as  the  other  Campanulas,  only  it  must  be  picked  in 
bud.  The  flowers  expand  well  in  water ;  so  do  those  of 
the  common  Canterbury  Bell. 

As  a  summer  luncheon  dish  this  Mayonnaise  souffl6  of 
crab  is  rather  out  of  the  common : — Slightly  butter  the 
lining  of  a  souffle-case,  pin  a  buttered  band  of  paper 
round  rather  high,  and  season  the  eatable  part  of  a  crab 
with  pepper,  salt,  oil,  and  vinegar ;  whip  some  nice  aspic 
jelly,  and  put  a  little  in  the  bottom  of  the  lining.  Make 
a  bed  of  Mayonnaise  sauce  on  the  top  of  the  aspic,  put  in 
the  crab,  then  some  more  chopped  aspic ;  it  should  be 
about  three  inches  above  the  tin  lining.  Stand  it  in  the 
ice-box  till  wanted.  Put  the  lining  in  the  case,  sprinkle 
with  fried  breadcrumbs,  and  serve  with  a  plate  of  chopped 
aspic  jelly  apart. 

A  less  complicated  luncheon  dish  is  as  follows:— 
Take  some  ripe  tomatoes,  equal-sized ;  cut  a  round  hole 
and  scoop  out  a  portion  of  the  middle,  fill  in  with  cold 
minced  chicken  and  Mayonnaise  sauce,  put  some  aspic  in 
the  dish,  and  serve  the  tomatoes,  on  round  pieces  of  fried 
bread,  cold. 


126     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

The  following  fresh  chutney  is  good  with  any  roast 
or  cold  meat : — Equal  parts  of  cucumber,  onion,  and 
sultanas  chopped  very  fine,  some  salt  and  cayenne. 
Moisten  with  vinegar,  and  press  for  two  hours.  It  will 
keep  some  time  :  when  wanted  for  use,  warm  in  a  little 
gravy  and  let  it  get  cold. 

A  very  much  prettier  way  than  the  usual  English  one 
of  serving  cauliflower  is  to  break  it  up  in  pieces  large 
enough  for  one  helping;  boil  them  very  lightly,  so  that 
they  should  be  quite  firm  and  dry,  almost  crisp.  It 
quite  spoils  them  if  they  are  soft  and  sodden.  Serve  apart, 
in  a  good-sized  boat,  some  white  creamy  sauce  into  which 
you  grate  a  little  Parmesan  cheese. 

Small  pieces  of  cauliflower  put  into  clear  soup,  and 
Parmesan  cheese  handed  apart,  is  a  good  way  of  using  up 
cauliflowers  that  are  just  beginning  to  run  to  seed. 

Young  onions  boiled  in  clear  soup  give  it  an  unusual 
and  gelatinous  consistency. 

Eaw  sliced  cucumber  is  quite  a  different  dish  if  cut 
very  thin  and  soaked  in  salt  and  water  for  two  or  three 
hours  before  it  is  wanted.  It  is  then  drained  and  pressed, 
and  served  with  oil,  vinegar,  and  pepper,  in  the  usual 
way. 

There  are  several  ways  of  cooking  cucumbers ;  I 
suggest  the  following  : — Peel  and  cut  up  a  cucumber  into 
pieces  about  two  inches  long,  and  divide  each  piece  into 
two.  Soak  them  for  two  or  three  hours  in  brown  sugar 
and  vinegar.  Stew  them  in  a  little  stock,  and  serve  them 
as  a  vegetable. 

Another  way  is  to  stew  these  pieces  in  a  little  butter. 
Make  the  sauce  apart  by  boiling  the  peel  in  a  little  milk 
and  butter,  rub  it  through  a  fine  sieve,  mix  in  a  little 
yelk  of  egg  and  pour  over  the  pieces. 

A  third  way  is  to  take  a  large  old  cucumber,  peel  it, 
cut  off  the  two  ends,  and  boil  it  very  lightly.  When  done, 


JUNE  127 

make  an  incision  down  the  middle,  not  quite  to  the  two 
ends.  Scoop  out  the  seeds,  and  fill  in  the  hollow  with  a 
light  stuffing  of  suet,  herbs,  breadcrumbs,  and  egg.  Serve 
it  whole,  like  a  roily-poly  pudding,  with  a  yellow  Dutch 
sauce  round  it. 

I  find,  all  through  the  year,  that  a  compote  is  a  much 
more  popular  way  of  cooking  fruit  than  in  a  tart.  The 
great  secret  of  making  compotes  is  to  stew  some  fruits, 
and  only  to  pour  boiling  syrup  over  others.  For  instance, 
Eed  Currants  are  not  good  unless  stewed  for  some  time  in 
an  earthenware  dish  in  the  oven.  Easpberries  are  quite 
spoilt  by  this  treatment. 


128     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 


JULY 

The  Welsh  Poppy— Astrantias —Old  Green  Peas  -Red  Currants —The 
Madonna  Lily,  L'£p6e  de  la  Vierge—The  value  of  the  reserve 
garden — An  English  summer's  day — Light  Foils  and  dry  summers 
— Other  people's  gardens  —  Notebooks  —  Sunny  lawns — Dutch 
gardens — Fountains  and  water  -  tanks  —Lobelia  cardinalis  — 
Watering  out  of  doors— Two  hardy  shrubs. 

July  6th. — One  of  the  prettiest  weeds  that  we  have  in 
our  modern  gardens,  and  which  alternates  between  being 
our  greatest  joy  and  our  greatest  torment,  is  the  Welsh 
Poppy.  It  succeeds  so  well  in  this  dry  soil  that  it  sows 
itself  everywhere ;  but  when  it  stands  up,  with  its  pro- 
fusion of  yellow  flowers  well  above  its  bed  of  bright 
green  leaves,  in  some  fortunate  situation  where  it  can  not 
only  be  spared,  but  encouraged  and  admired,  it  is  a  real 
pleasure.  It  is  not  a  Poppy  at  all,  but  a  Meconopsis.  It 
is  quite  easy  to  distinguish  between  the  two,  once  having 
grasped  the  fact  that  the  seed-vessels  of  the  entire  Poppy 
tribe  are  flat  on  the  top,  whereas  the  seed-vessels  of  the 
Meconopsis  are  pointed.  There  are  several  varieties  of 
Meconopsis,  all  very  desirable,  and  to  be  found,  as  usual, 
well  described  in  the  'English  Flower  Garden.' 

Their  cultivation  is  a  little  more  difficult  than  that  of 
the  ordinary  annual  and  biennial,  so  one  hardly  ever  sees 
them  anywhere,  but  they  are  well  worth  the  little  extra 
trouble.  Among  the  many  small  plants  of  easy  cultiva- 
tion and  persistent  flowering,  Astrantias  are  very  useful, 
especially  in  light  soils,  where  things  flower  and  are  over 


JULY  129 

so  quickly.  There  are  several  shades  ;  I  have  a  pink 
and  a  green.  They  have  a  most  refined  beauty  of  their 
own,  and  last  well  in  water.  They  are  best  grown  from 
seed,  and  are  well  worth*  every  care.  Any  soil  will  suit 
them,  and  they  will  grow  in  half-shade  or  full  sun. 

Some  dry  summers  Green  Peas  do  very  badly  With 
us  ;  they  dry  up  so  quickly.  We  all  know  the  hesitating 
remark  to  the  cook :  '  The  Peas  were  not  so  good  last 
night.'  'No,  m'm,  they  are  getting  old.'  When  they 
do  get  old,  the  following  is  an  original  French  receipt  for 
stewed  Peas,  which  is  very  good  indeed: — Put  the  Peas 
into  a  saucepan  with  a  good-sized  Cabbage  Lettuce  cut  up, 
a  white  Onion,  a  sprig  of  Parsley,  four  ounces  of  butter 
kneaded  with  flour  ;  put  the  butter  in  small  lumps  on  the 
Peas,  also  a  very  little  salt  and  a  piece  of  white  sugar. 
Cover  the  saucepan,  and  let  it  simmer  slowly  for  about 
three-quarters  of  an  hour. 

Currants  ripen  very  early  with  us.  It  is  a  good  plan, 
in  order  to  keep  them  for  eating  when  other  fruit  is  not 
so  plentiful,  to  tie  the  whole  bush  up  in  coarse  muslin 
just  as  the  Currants  are  getting  ripe.  This  protects  them 
from  birds  and  from  insects,  and  they  hang  well  on  into 
September,  and  are  perfectly  good.  Black  Currants  will 
not  stand  the  same  treatment. 

The  following  is  a  good  receipt  for  Bed  Currant  jelly, 
one  of  the  preserves  best  worth  making  at  home : — 
Gather  the  Currants  on  a  dry  day.  Strip  them  off  their 
stalks,  and  squeeze  the  juice  through  a  cloth.  Leave  the 
juice  to  stand  in  the  cellar  for  twenty-four  hours ;  then 
pour  it  into  another  cloth,  carefully  leaving  the  thick 
sediment  behind.  For  each  pound  of  juice  allow  one 
pound  of  powdered  white  sugar  (not  bought  ready 
pounded,  but  done  at  home).  Put  the  juice  on  the  fire 
in  the  preserving-pan,  and  keep  stirring  it  from  the  first 
with  a  silver  spoon,  adding  the  sugar,  which  should 

K 


1 30  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

be  standing  close  by,  in  spoonfuls.  When  the  sugar 
is  all  added  and  dissolved,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
take  off  the  rising  scum  with  a  flat  sieve-spoon,  very 
well  scalded  and  cleaned  previously;  and  by  placing 
a  little  jelly  on  a  saucer  it  will  be  seen  by  the  consistency 
when  it  has  jellied.  As  soon  as  there  is  a  sign  of  this 
take  the  pan  off  the  fire,  let  it  stand  five  or  ten  minutes, 
and  fill  the  jelly  glasses,  which  should  previously  have 
been  well  sulphured,  and  be  standing  ready  face  down- 
wards. Next  day  they  should  be  covered  with  rounds  of 
paper  soaked  in  brandy.  Half  a  teaspoonful  of  brandy 
should  be  sprinkled  over  each  glass,  and  then  they  should 
be  tied  or  gummed  up  in  the  usual  way. 

July  Qth. — I  consider  no  trouble  too  great,  whether  the 
garden  be  large  or  small,  to  grow  the  beautiful  stately 
Madonna  Lily  (Lilium  candidum).  It  requires  very 
different  treatment  from  other  Lilies,  and  flourishes  in 
rich,  heavy  soils  in  full  sun,  where  many  Lilies  would 
fail.  Gardening  books  often  tell  you  it  is  fatal  to  move 
these  Lilies,  but  I  think  this  has  arisen  from  gardeners 
moving  or  disturbing  them  when  they  have  '  done '  their 
borders  in  October  or  November,  and  when  the  Lilies  have 
made  an  autumn  growth;  moving  them  then  is  fatal. 
When  I  used  to  leave  them  alone,  they  made  an  excellent 
top  growth  in  spring,  but  dried  up  and  died  down 
without  flowering.  What  I  now  do  when  they  begin  to 
die  down  some  time  this  month,  whether  they  have 
flowered  or  not,  is  to  dig  them  up  carefully  with  a  fork, 
remove  all  offsets,  re-make  and  manure  the  ground  well, 
mixing  with  it  some  brick  rubbish  or  chalk,  and  then 
replace  the  large  bulbs,  planting  them  rather  deep,  and 
not  too  close  together.  In  this  way  every  bulb  flowers. 
A  little  liquid  manure  helps  them  to  open  well  when  they 
are  in  bud  the  following  June.  The  small  offsets  are 
put  into  a  nursery  apart,  and  many  of  them  will  flower 


JULY  13I 

the   following  year  in  a   way  that   does   admirably  for 
picking. 

A  few  years  ago  I  brought  from  Paris  some  bulbs  of 
Ornithogalum  pyramidale,  the  flower-spikes  of  which  are 
sold  at  the  end  of  June  in  the  Paris  flower  market  under 
the  name  of  L'6p6e  de  la  Vierge.  I  have  never  seen  the 
plant  grown  anywhere  in  England  as  I  have  grown  it, 
and  yet  in  every  way  it  is  quite  one  of  the  most  satis- 
factory flowers  for  picking  that  I  know.  If  you  gather  it 
just  as  one  flower  is  coming  out,  the  whole  of  the  long 
spike  grows  and  flowers  in  water  up  to  the  very  top, 
bending  and  curling  about,  and  assuming  the  most 
graceful  curves.  No  one  can  grow  a  better  flower  plant 
to  send  to  London.  It  has  one  fault  in  the  garden — the 
leaves  droop  and  turn  rather  spotty  and  yellow  before  the 
flower  comes  quite  to  its  prime ;  but  this  defect  can 
indeed  be  forgiven  for  the  sake  of  its  many  merits.  I 
cultivate  it  nearly  as  I  do  the  above-mentioned  Lilies ; 
only,  when  the  bulbs  are  dug  up,  we  place  the  small  ones 
at  once  in  a  nursery,  but  the  large  ones  are  well  dried  in 
the  sun  and  not  replanted  till  October.  A  mulching 
when  they  begin  to  show  through  in  the  spring  does 
them  good.  Mr.  Barr  sells  the  bulbs,  but  I  cannot  say  if 
his  are  as  fine  as  those  I  brought  from  Paris  six  or  seven 
years  ago.  I  know  no  summer-flowering  shrub  so  beauti- 
ful as  the  Hydrangea  paniculata  grandiflora.  I  have 
tried  over  and  over  again  to  grow  it,  but  it  does  badly 
and  then  dies.  It  is  not  the  soil  only,  for  I  once  saw  a 
magnificent  specimen  growing  under  a  wall  at  Ascot, 
where  the  soil  is  the  same  as  ours.  I  suppose  it  never 
has  had  quite  a  good  enough  place.  It  should  be  cut 
back  hard  every  spring,  and,  when  growing  freely,  wants 
much  watering ;  I  am  told  that  constant  applications  of 
soot-water  do  it  good.  I  daresay  I  shall  succeed  in 
time. 

K2 


1 32     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

July  Wth. — This  is  about  the  time  we  move  our  things 
from  the  reserve  garden,  spoken  of  before,  and  from  the 
late-sown  seed  beds,  and  plant  into  the  borders  and 
square  beds  those  amiable  autumn  annuals  that  do 
not  seem  to  mind  moving  at  all,  such  as  French  Mari- 
golds, Tagetes,  Everlastings,  Scabious,  &c.  The  Phloxes, 
Michaelmas  Daisies,  and  early  low-growing  Chrysanthe- 
mums, grown  in  the  reserve  garden,  move  just  as  well  in 
warm,  dry  weather  as  in  wet,  only,  of  course,  they  must 
be  well  and  continuously  watered  till  the  weather 
changes  and  they  have  taken  hold.  The  large  Sedum 
spectabile,  so  loved  by  the  bees  in  September,  also  moves 
perfectly  in  the  same  way,  and,  in  a  large  mass,  makes 
a  very  handsome  autumn  plant.  I  am  sure  that  the 
system  of  reserve  garden  and  moving  plants  and  seed- 
lings in  July  can  be  extended  and  experimented  upon  to 
almost  any  extent.  Next  year  I  must  try  it  with  the 
Veronica  spicata — white,  blue,  and  pink.  They  are  very 
pretty  things  when  flowering  well  and  healthily,  and 
they  come  into  bloom  at  a  time  of  year  when  herbaceous 
plants  are  scarce.  Campanula  turbinata,  blue  and  white, 
are  useful  for  the  same  reason. 

Alstroemerias  do  very  well  on  dry,  light  soil ;  they 
want  mulching  in  spring,  but  are  no  trouble  at  all  when 
once  established.  A.  aurantiaca  is  the  easiest  to  grow, 
but  A.  chilensis  is  the  most  beautiful.  The  seeds  of  the 
best  flowers  are  worth  keeping  and  sowing,  to  improve 
the  colour  and  size  of  the  flowers.  The  white  one  I  have 
not  yet  succeeded  in  making  grow  from  seeds,  but  I  saw 
it  at  the  Horticultural  Show,  and  it  was  most  beautiful 
and  delicate.  I  find  that  buying  the  bulbous  rootlets 
dried  is  no  use  at  all,  they  do  not  grow.  They  do  not 
mind  moving  in  August  after  flowering,  and  they  are 
best  increased  as  Lilies  of  the  Valley  are — by  digging  out 
square  pieces,  filling  in  with  good  soil  and  dropping  in 


JULY  133 

the  pieces  cut  out  where  they  are  wanted  somewhere 
else  without  disturbing  the  earth  that  clings  to  them. 
If  you  ever  try  to  force  your  own  Lilies  of  the  Valley, 
pick  out  the  best  crowns,  but  never  put  them  into  the 
greenhouse  till  frost  has  been  on  them,  and  never  mulch 
outdoor  Lilies  of  the  Valley  before  March,  and  then  only 
with  leaf  mould.  As  Lilies  are  an  early  spring  flower, 
you  will  find  they  do  better  under  a  wall  facing  east  than 
anywhere  else. 

July  14:th. — How  beautiful  are  the  really  hot,  lovely 
English  summer's  days.  They  come  sometimes,  and  they 
are  exquisite ;  nothing  beats  them.  Why,  oh  !  why,  can 
I  never  enjoy  such  things  without  that  tinge  of  sadness 
which  moderns  call  morbidness  ?  It  does  no  good,  but 
I  think  of  someone  who  is  ill,  or  of  those  masses  and 
masses  of  people  in  that  dreary  great  city  so  close.  As  I 
enjoy  my  garden  alone,  with  the  beauty  and  the  flowers, 
the  flood  of  summer  light  and  the  intense  pleasure  of  it, 
I  long  to  do  something,  and  longing  generally  resolves 
itself  into  picking  flowers  for  somebody.  This  little 
poem  by  Paul  Verlaine  seems  to  give  the  colour  of  it  all, 
and  the  pain  :— 

LA   VIE 

Le  ciel  est  par-dessus  le  toit, 

Si  bleu,  si  calme  ! 
Un  arbre  par-dessus  le  toit 

Berce  sa  palme. 

La  cloche  dans  le  ciel  qu'on  voit 

Doucement  tinte, 
Un  oiseau  sur  1'arbre  qu'on  voit 

Chante  sa  plainte. 

Mon  Dieu,  mon  Dieu,  la  vie  est  la, 

Simple  et  tranquille ; 
Cette  paisible  rumeur-la 

Vient  de  la  ville. 


i34     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

Qu'as-tu  fait,  0  toi  que  voila, 

Pleurant  sans  cesse — 
Dis,  qu'as-tu  fait,  toi  que  voila, 

De  ta  jeunesse  ? 

July  15th. — July  is  a  very  busy  month  in  all  gardens. 
The  borders  must  be  cleared  and  replanted,  the  seeds 
of  perennials  have  to  be  gathered  and  sown,  and  many 
other  things  require  attention.  The  Delphiniums  may 
bravely  be  cut  down  after  flowering;  it  does  them  no 
harm,  and  they  often  break  again  and  have  stray 
flowering  sprays  in  the  autumn.  Some  of  the  best  seed 
should  be  sown  every  year.  The  same  with  the  Ver- 
bascums ;  if  cut  down,  they  flower  again,  in  rather  a 
different  way,  but  very  charmingly,  in  the  autumn.  July 
is  also  the  great  time  for  sowing  perennials,  or  perennials 
that  are  treated  as  biennials ;  and  when  you  have  fine 
flowers  or  good  colours,  it  is  quite  worth  while  to  mark 
the  flowers  by  tying  a  piece  of  bass  or  coloured  wool 
round  the  stalk.  These  little  white  ties  are  recognised 
and  respected  by  the  gardeners  while  clearing  the 
borders,  a  work  which  it  is  essential  to  do  in  July. 
I  sow  a  great  many  things  every  year,  and  find  them 
most  useful-  -Gaillardias,  Coreopsis  lanceolata,  Snap- 
dragons (Antirrhinums).  Oh,  how  useful  and  beautiful 
are  the  tall  yellow  and  the  tall  white  Snapdragons  ! 
They  can  be  played  with  in  so  many  ways  :  potted  up  in 
the  autumn,  grown  and  flowered  in  a  greenhouse,  cut 
back  and  planted  out  in  the  spring  to  flower  again, 
admirable  to  send  away ;  in  fact,  they  have  endless 
merits,  and  in  a  large  clump  in  front  of  some  dark 
corner  or  shrub  they  look  very  handsome  indeed.  They 
are  lovely  picked  and  on  the  dinner-table,  especially  the 
yellow  Snapdragons,  but,  like  many  other  things,  they 
just  want  a  little  care  and  cultivation,  which  they  often 
do  not  get ;  and  they  ought  to  be  sown  every  April,  and 


JULY  135 

again  in  July.  The  smaller  the  garden,  the  more 
essential  are  these  plants  for  people  who  like  having 
flowers  to  pick ;  but  I  warn  everyone  against  those 
terrible  inventions  of  seedsmen,  the  Dwarf  Antirrhinums  ; 
they  have  all  the  attributes  of  a  dwarf,  and  are  impish 
and  ugly.  The  flower  is  far  too  large  for  the  stalk,  and 
they  are,  to  my  mind,  entirely  without  merit.  July  is 
the  time  I  take  up  both  the  English  and  the  Spanish 
Irises,  which  makes  them  do  ever  so  much  better.  The 
English  Irises  are  best  planted  again  at  once,  only  taking 
off  the  small  bulbs.  The  Spanish  Irises  are  best  dried  in 
the  sun  and  replanted  in  September.  In  both  cases  the 
small  bulbs  are  planted  in  rows  in  the  kitchen  garden ; 
they  take  up  little  room,  and  in  this  way  the  stock  is 
increased.  In  our  soil,  unless  treated  in  this  way,  they 
dwindle,  cease  flowering,  and  ultimately  disappear.  I 
lost  many  from  not  knowing  this  in  my  early  gardening 
days,  when  I  was  certainly  green  in  judgment.  The 
Spanish  Iris  likes  a  dry  place  in  full  sun ;  the  English 
Iris  does  best  in  half-shade,  and  likes  moisture  if  it  can 
get  it,  but  flowers  well  without;  the  leaves  are  what 
suffer  most  from  dryness — long,  succulent,  moisture- 
loving  things  that  they  are. 

July  17th. — We  have  had  a  most  unusually  hot  dry 
summer,  and  to  go  into  the  garden  is  absolute  pain  to  me, 
for  all  the  trouble  and  labour  of  the  year  seem  more  or 
less  wasted.  Plants  are  miserably  forced  into  bloom,  to 
go  off  almost  immediately ;  and  it  is  little  consolation  to 
know  a  week's  rain  will  make  many  plants  beautiful 
again,  for  the  especial  beauty  of  early  summer  is  over. 
July  and  August  are  always  trying  months  here.  The 
soil  is  so  very  light,  and  one  must  pay  the  penalty ; 
even  the  heavy  soils,  I  am  told,  are  suffering  much 
this  year. 

One  ought,  too,  to  study  with  great  interest  and  take 


136    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

note  of  what  survives,  and  even  does  better  in  these 
very  dry  years.  That  handsome,  rather  coarse-growing 
perennial,  Buphthalmwri  cordifolium,  now  called  Telekia 
speciosa — as  if  one  such  name  were  not  enough  for  a 
stout-growing  composite — looked  shrivelled  and  unhappy 
last  month,  but  it  has  flowered  better  than  usual,  and  it 
is  a  handsome  plant.  The  pretty  feathery  Gypsophila 
paniculata  never  suffers  from  dryness,  it  has  such  a 
splendid  big  tap-root.  The  Gaillardias,  moved  from  the 
seed  bed  in  spring,  have  done  very  well  in  full  sun. 

The  Coreopsis  grandiflora  blazes  in  the  sunlight.  I 
save  a  little  seed  from  the  largest  flowers  of  both  of 
these,  and  sow  them  every  year,  so  as  to  have  a 
continual  supply  of  young  plants.  It  is  not  to  avoid 
buying  fresh  seeds  that  I  mark  the  best  flowers  of  some, 
but  because  by  this  means,  and  by  saving  only  from  the 
best  flowers,  I  get  really  better  plants. 

My  Carnations  are  much  less  good  than  usual  this 
year,  but  I  cannot  blame  the  weather  for  this.  I  stupidly 
followed  the  advice  in  some  of  the  gardening  papers  last 
year  of  leaving  the  layers  on  the  old  plants  till  April.  I 
shall  never  do  so  again ;  here  it  does  not  answer  at  all  ; 
but  I  shall  layer  them  as  early  as  possible,  take  them  off 
in  October,  and  make  up  the  bed  then.  It  is  a  very  good 
plan  to  plant  a  row  of  young  Carnation  plants  in  the 
kitchen  garden,  some  distance  apart,  so  that  they  may  be 
layered  earlier  than  in  the  beds. 

July  26th. — Not  the  least  delightful  part,  in  my  opinion, 
of  the  growing  knowledge  of  gardening  is  the  appreciative 
visiting  of  the  gardens  of  others.  On  first  going  into  a 
garden  one  knows  by  instinct,  as  a  hound  scents  the  fox, 
if  it  is  going  to  be  interesting  or  not.  One's  eyes  are 
sharp,  and  a  joyful  glow  of  satisfaction  comes  over  one 
on  seeing  something  not  by  any  means  necessarily  new, 
but  unknown  to  oneself.  When  looking  through  old 


JULY  137 

books  or  modern  catalogues,  one  feels  one  has  nothing  in 
one's  garden,  t>ut  I  must  confess  that  visiting  other 
people's  gardens  very  often  makes  me  feel  I  really  have 
a  very  fair  collection.  A  notebook  is  a  most  important 
companion  on  gardening  expeditions.  I  use  metallic 
paper,  to  ensure  a  permanent  record,  and  an  ordinary 
pencil.  I  write  the  date  and  name  of  the  place,  then  jot 
down  the  names  of  plants  and  general  observations.  I 
have  also  kept  a  kind  of  gardening  journal  for  many 
years,  making  notes  three  or  four  times  in  the  month, 
and  on  the  opposite  page  I  keep  lists  of  any  plants  I  buy 
or  bring  home  from  friends,  with  the  date ;  noting  the 
deaths  the  following  year  is  instructive.  I  have  lately 
had  a  rain-gauge  given  me.  This  is  a  great  interest  and 
amusement,  especially  where  rain-water  is  always  in 
demand  and  often  running  short.  I  did  not  know  the 
importance  of  rain-water  when  first  we  came  to  live 
here;  and  though  we  have  lots  of  roofing,  we  are  not 
sufficiently  provided  with  underground  tanks.  Our  small 
ones  are  supplemented  now  as  much  as  possible  by 
petroleum  barrels  sunk  into  the  ground,  and  the  water- 
shoot  from  the  roof  allowed  to  pour  into  them.  You  can 
connect  this  first  barrel  with  others  by  a  little  piece  of 
lead  piping,  and  so  increase  the  storage. 

For  those  who  have  not  got  very  good  memories  for 
the  names  of  plants,  I  strongly  recommend  them,  if  they 
can  draw,  to  make  a  little  coloured  sketch,  however  small, 
on  the  page  of  a  gardening  book 'next  the  name  of  the 
plant.  This  will  be  found  a  great  help  to  the  memory  ; 
I  began  gardening  so  late  in  life  that  I  had  to  get  all  the 
help  I  could.  I  have  lately  been  visiting  what  I  call 
intelligent  gardens,  and  will  make  a  few  remarks  about 
them.  In  one  place  where  Eoses  grow  well  I  saw  a 
beautiful  specimen  of  La  Marque  Eose — one  of  the  most 
satisfactory  Eoses  for  a  wall.  Everyone  ought  to  try  and 


138     POT-POURRI    FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

grow  it  who  has  room  and  a  fairly  good  Eose  soil.  The 
long  flowering  branches  were  cut  a  yard  or  more  in  length. 
At  the  end  of  each  branch  was  a  beautiful  bunch  of  pure, 
cream-white  Eoses,  seven  or  eight  in  number,  with  buds 
in  between,  and  pale,  healthy,  green  leaves  down  the 
stem.  Two  such  branches  in  a  narrow-necked  vase, 
bronze  or  blue  or  dark  green,  are  an  ornament  to  which 
nothing  can  be  added  for  any  room,  be  it  in  a  cottage  or  a 
palace.  As  a  decoration  for  a  large  dinner-table,  nothing 
can  be  better  than  these  Eoses  when  they  are  in  their 
prime,  which,  unfortunately,  is  but  for  a  very  short  time. 

In  the  old  days  of  bedding-out,  lawns  used  to  be  cut 
up  into  beds  and  patterns.  Now  the  fashion  has  changed, 
and  bedding-out  has  become  so  generally  condemned  that 
most  people  have  levelled  and  turfed-over  the  rounds, 
stars,  crescents,  and  oblongs  that  used  to  enliven  their 
lawns  for  a  short  time,  at  any  rate,  every  autumn.  As  a 
result  of  this  reaction,  there  are  now  an  immense  number 
of  large,  dull  lawns,  which  as  a  rule  slope  slightly  away 
from  the  house,  and  often  to  the  south.  They  are  wet  in 
rain,  and  dry  and  brown  in  hot  weather.  They 
have  their  weekly  shave  with  the  mowing-machine,  and 
lie  baking  in  the  sunshine.  The  poor  plants,  which  would 
flower  and  do  well  in  the  open,  are  planted  at  the  edges 
of  the  shrubberies,  where — in  a  light  soil,  at  any  rate — 
they  are  robbed  and  starved  into  ugliness  and  failure  by 
their  stronger  neighbours. 

There  are  several  ways  of  breaking  up  lawns.  One  is 
by  turning  the  lawns  into  grass  paths,  along  which  the 
machine  runs  easily,  and  making  all  the  rest  into  open, 
informally  shaped  beds.  These  can  be  planted  in  every 
kind  of  way — in  bold  masses  of  one  thing  alone,  or  at 
most  in  mixtures  of  two,  such  as  Eoses  and  Violas ; 
Azaleas  and  Lilies  ;  Carnations  and  more  Violas,  or  mossy 
Saxifrages ;  Campanulas  in  succession,  tall  and  low- 


JULY  139 

growing  ;  a  bold  group  of  Bamboos  and  Bocconia  cordata ; 
or  simply  with  a  selection  of  a  few  low-growing  shrubs  ; 
and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  Another  way,  and  one  that  finds 
small  favour  with  gardeners,  and  with  considerable  reason, 
because  of  the  trouble  of  turning  the  mowing-machine 
round  the  plants,  is  to  break  up  the  lawn  with  sunshine- 
loving  specimen  plants — Mulberries,  Savins,  Sumachs, 
clumps  of  creeping  Ayrshire  Eoses  and  Honeysuckles, 
poles  covered  with  claret-coloured  Vines,  Clematis,  &c. 
Yet  another  way  is  to  have  a  double  pergola  running  all 
round  the  lawn  in  a  square,  or  only  down  both  sides, 
with  a  grass  path,  broad  and  stately,  underneath  the 
pergola.  This  can  be  made  of  stone  or  brick,  oak-trees 
or  fir-poles ;  or,  if  wanted  very  light,  of  Japanese  large 
Bamboos — to  be  got  now  in  London,  I  believe.  These 
Bamboos  look  best  if  two,  three,  or  five  are  blocked  to- 
gether unequally,  with  different-sized  openings  in  between, 
and  used  as  supports  for  fruit-trees  and  flowering  shrubs 
of  all  kinds.  As  these  plants  grow,  bamboos  and  wires 
have  to  be  put  across  the  top  to  support  the  creepers.  In 
the  middle  is  a  large  square  of  grass ;  the  openings  are 
left  turfed,  but  where  the  supports  are  put  into  the  ground 
a  narrow  bed  must  be  made  for  the  plants.  This  enables 
them  to  be  manured,  chalked,  watered,  and  generally 
cared  for.  I  now  come  to  what  is,  in  my  idea,  by  far  the 
most  enchanting  plan  for  breaking  up  a  lawn,  which  is  to 
sink  a  small  Dutch  garden  in  the  middle  of  it.  The 
size  of  the  Dutch  garden  must,  of  course,  be  in  proportion 
to  that  of  the  lawn.  If  the  proportion  cannot  be  kept,  it 
would  be  better  to  leave  it  alone.  It  should  have  a  red- 
brick wall  all  round  it,  and  be  oblong  or  square,  as  suits 
the  situation.  The  entrances  to  it  are  by  brick  steps,  one 
in  the  middle  of  each  of  the  four  sides.  The  height  of 
the  wall  is  about  three  feet  from  the  ground  on  the  outside, 
and  five  feet  on  the  inside.  Along  these  walls,  on  the 


140     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

inside,  are  rather  wide  beds,  bordered  by  paths  made  of 
rows  of  large,  square  red  tiles,  laid  flat  and  not  quite  join- 
ing, so  that  tiny  alpines  and  mosses  may  grow  in  between 
them  at  their  own  sweet  will.  If  preferred,  this  narrow 
path  can  be  made  of  bricks  or  broken  paving-stones.  The 
object  of  this  path,  besides  the  convenience  of  standing 
dry  to  pick  the  flowers  or  weed  the  beds,  is  that  the  front 
of  the  bed  can  be  planted  in  groups,  not  in  rows, 
with  all  sorts  of  low-growing  things : — Alyssums, 
Aubrietias,  Forget-me-nots,  Pinks  of  all  kinds,  Saxi- 
frages, and  mosses.  On  the  side  shaded  by  the  wall 
and  facing  north  small  ferns,  Campanulas,  and  shade - 
loving  plants  are  the  only  ones  that  will  do  well.  Prim- 
roses, Auriculas,  and  the  spring-flowering  bulbs  and  Irises 
do  best  on  the  side  facing  east ;  and  the  summer  and 
autumn  plants  like  to  face  west  and  north,  as  they  weary 
of  the  hot  sun  all  the  summer  through.  All  the  year 
round  this  little  garden  can  be  kept  a  pleasure  and  a  joy 
by  a  little  management,  and  by  planting  and  replanting 
from  the  greenhouse,  the  seed-beds,  or  the  reserve  garden. 
The  wall  looks  best  if  entirely  planted  with  Tea-roses. 
As  they  grow,  they  send  up  long  waving  branches,  which 
beautifully  break  the  hard  line  of  the  wall.  The  middle 
of  the  walled  garden  is  grass,  and  the  mowing  machine 
can  never  cut  or  injure  the  plants,  feather  forward  as  they 
will  on  to  the  tiled  path  between  the  beds  and  the  grass. 
In  the  centre  there  can  be  a  sundial  on  a  square  base  ; 
or,  if  you  have  water  laid  on,  a  small  square  or  oblong 
cement  tank  let  into  the  ground,  quite  level  with  the 
grass,  as  a  fountain  and  to  be  handy  for  watering.  All 
day  long  the  water  in  the  tank  is  warmed  by  the  sunshine. 
This  kind  of  fountain  is  an  enormous  improvement,  I 
think,  to  small  suburban  gardens,  and  it  is  prettier  oblong 
than  square.  The  fountain  must  be  made  of  cement  and 
six  or  eight  feet  deep.  If  the  garden  slopes  at  all,  the 


JULY  141 

overflow  from  the  fountain  can  be  guided  by  small 
watercourses  on  to  different  beds.  I  have  pockets  of 
cement  made  at  irregular  intervals  at  the  edges  of  the 
fountain  to  hold  water-plants  and  such  things,  which  then 
appear  reflected  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  not  as  they 
grow  against  a  dark  shrub  or  a  group  of  Italian  Canes  of 
Bamboos,  but  against  the  blue  sky  above  them — an  end- 
less pleasure  to  those  who  notice  such  things.  A  piece 
of  water,  however  small,  and  the  sound  of  water  falling 
from  a  small  fountain,  or  even  from  a  raised  tap  if  the 
tank  is  near  a  wall,  is  such  an  added  enjoyment  to  life  on 
a  hot  summer's  day,  not  to  mention  the  infinite  superiority 
for  watering  of  having  water  that  has  been  exposed  to  the 
sun  and  air.  If  not  artificially  fed,  gold-fish  live  and 
breed  healthily  in  these  tanks. 

Water-plants,  such  as  the  Sweet-smelling  Eush,  the 
flowering  Eush  Butomus  wnbellatus,  the  Water-lily,  the 
Cape  pond- weed  Aponogeton,  can  all  be  grown  in  tanks 
if  the  plants  are  planted  in  baskets  or  hampers,  not  pots, 
and  let  down  to  the  bottom.  They  give  food  for  the  fish, 
and  keep  them  healthy ;  a  tank  also  serves  as  a  dip  for 
swallows  on  the  wing,  and  as  a  breeding-place  for  the 
beautiful  blue  dragon-fly. 

To  go  back  to  the  Dutch  garden.  I  think  at  the 
corners  of,  or  on  each  side  of,  the  entrances  there  may  be 
pots  with  plants  in  them,  or  balls  of  stone,  or  anything 
else  in  character  with  the  rest  of  the  stone  or  brick  work, 
which  should  be  formal  and  slightly  constrained  in  design, 
as  I  consider  all  brickwork  in  a  garden  close  to  a  house 
ought  to  be.  If  planted  as  I  described,  no  two  such 
gardens  would  ever  be  the  least  alike ;  no  law  could  bind 
them,  and  no  wind  destroy  them. 

One  of  the  most  perfect  ways  of  laying  out  a  long  flat 
piece  of  ground  I  have  ever  seen  was  in  a  garden  in 
Salisbury.  One  long,  very  long,  broad  grass  path,  right 


142     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

down  the  middle ;  wide  herbaceous  borders  on  each  side, 
with  low  plants  in  front  and  tall  ones  behind ;  and  at  the 
back  of  these  again,  on  each  side,  was  the  kitchen  garden 
— Gooseberries,  Currants,  and  Raspberries,  and  in  between 
all  the  usual  kitchen-garden  vegetables  ;  beyond  that  was 
a  small  cinder-path,  and  then  a  wall  on  either  side,  shutting 
off  the  neighbours.  One  wall  faced  nearly  north  and  the 
other  nearly  south.  The  long  garden,  stretching  from  the 
house  eastward  and  westward,  was  ended  by  the  river ; 
the  tall  spires  of  the  cathedral  towered  behind  the  house. 
I  have  often  thought  that  the  same  disposition  of  an 
oblong  piece  of  ground  would  turn  a  depressing 
laurel-planted  suburban  garden  into  a  thing  of  joy  and 
beauty,  even  without  the  cathedral  towers  and  the  swift, 
clear,  running  river. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  late  summer  plants — I 
see  my  friends  often  fail  with  it — is  the  Lobelia  cardinalis 
and  L.  fulgens,  Queen  Victoria.  It  is  generally  injured  by 
kindness,  sown  in  the  early  spring,  drawn  up  in  green- 
houses, and  planted  out  weak  and  straggling,  when  it  does 
nothing.  It  is  a  North  American  bog-plant,  where  it  lies 
frost-bound  for  months,  so  it  is  not  cold  that  kills  it ; 
but  it  likes  a  long  rest.  I  generally  take  up  my  old  plants 
and  keep  them  very  dry  in  a  box  in  a  frame,  planting  them 
out  at  the  end  of  March  or  early  in  April,  before  they 
begin  to  grow  at  all.  It  is  letting  them  grow  on  in  the 
boxes  that  brings  the  disease  and  rust.  Every  year  we 
sow  a  small  patch  of  both  kinds  out  of  doors  in  June  or 
July,  and  these  young  plants  survive  the  winter  perfectly. 
Dear  youth  !  What  a  power  it  is  to  those  that  have  it, 
even  among  plants  !  In  spring  these  plants  are  put  where 
they  are  wanted  to  flower.  If  they  are  in  a  dry  place,  I 
am  bound  to  say  they  require  plenty  of  water  when  once 
they  really  begin  to  grow.  They  look  very  well  in  autumn 
growing  out  of  a  fine  spreading  base  of  Mrs.  Sinkins 


JULY  I43 

Pink,  which  must  be  divided  in  the  autumn,  leaving 
spaces  for  the  planting  of  the  Lobelia  in  spring. 

This  is  the  time  when  the  plants  before  named,  which 
were  put  into  the  reserve  garden  in  the  spring — early 
Chrysanthemums,  Phloxes,  Michaelmas  Daisies — are 
brought  to  fill  up  bare  places  in  the  border.  If  the  borders 
have  been  planted  as  before  advised,  the  colours  must  be 
arranged  according  to  the  several  groups.  Two  plants  of 
the  Daisy  tribe — one  blue-violet  with  a  yellow  middle, 
called  Erigeron  speciosus ;  the  other  a  bright  yellow,  though 
some  are  paler  than  others,  called  Anthemis  tinctoria — are 
invaluable  in  dry  borders.  They  grow  easily  from  seed, 
and  are  very  amiable  about  being  moved. 

July  %lth. — Watering  outdoor  plants  not  in  pots  or 
tubs  is  a  question  about  which  people  differ  much. 
Gardeners  as  a  rule  are  against  it,  and  it  certainly  kills 
perennial  plants  and  small  shrubs  if  begun  and  left  off,  or 
even  if  improperly  done.  But  in  a  dry  soil  many  a  plant 
is  saved  by  watering  it  thoroughly  once  or  twice  a  week, 
more  especially  if  the  flower-buds  are  formed.  My 
experience  is  that  under  those  circumstances  watering 
hurts  nothing,  but  it  has  a  tendency  to  draw  the  roots  to 
the  surface,  which  is  very  undesirable  with  perennials, 
both  for  heat  in  summer  and  cold  in  winter.  With  any 
precious  plant  newly  planted,  and  which  looks  thirsty,  a 
very  good  and  safe  plan  is  to  sink  a  flower-pot  in  the 
ground,  just  above  the  plant  if  the  ground  slopes  at  all. 
Fill  this  with  water,  and  let  it  soak  gradually  away,  to  the 
cooling  and  refreshing  of  the  roots.  After  the  plant  has 
been  well  soaked,  one  filling  of  the  pot  a  day,  in  the 
morning,  is  sufficient.  All  plants  that  have  been  planted 
out,  after  being  removed  from  a  reserve  garden  or  seed 
bed,  must  be  watered ;  and  once  you  begin,  whether  in 
kitchen  or  flower  garden,  you  must  go  on  till  it  rains 
steadily  and  well ;  a  slight  shower  is  no  good. 


144     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

A  very  good  shading  protection  for  small  plants  or 
delicate  seedlings  is  to  get  the  village  blacksmith  to  make 
you  some  flower-pots — he  will  understand  that — in  per- 
forated zinc  such  as  would  be  used  for  larder  windows,  &c. 
Beverse  one  of  these  over  the  plant,  to  protect  it  from 
sun  and  wind. 

The  mention  of  blacksmith  reminds  me  that  the 
parings  and  raspings  of  horses'  hoofs,  which  can  be 
purchased  for  very  little,  put  into  a  tub  of  water  and 
allowed  to  decompose,  make  a  very  excellent  and 
nourishing  liquid  manure.  It  should  not  be  applied  too 
strong. 

July  30th. — Two  shrubs  are  now  flowering  in  the 
garden  which  in  this  month  of  the  year  are  valuable. 
One  is  called  Clethra  (Sweet  Pepper  Bush),  mentioned  in 
May  for  pot-cultivation,  and  useful,  as  it  stands  pulling 
about  and  changing ;  it  is  quite  hardy,  but  in  dry  places 
it  is  the  better  for  watering  when  coming  into  flower. 
The  other  is  called  Pavia  or  ^Esculus  parvifolia  (Dwarf 
Horse  Chestnut),  a  handsome  and  valuable  hardy  tree 
from  North  America.  It  does  not  grow  fast,  and  takes 
little  room;  it  has  long  spikes  of  flowers  with  bright 
pink  stamens,  is  refined  and  sweet,  and  very  pretty  when 
gathered  and  wedged  (see  Appendix),  though  it  would  not 
look  well  in  a  room  in  any  other  way.  I  have  had  it 
several  years,  and  it  flowers  every  year ;  its  handsome 
and  yet  restrained  growth  is  a  great  advantage  in  a  small 
garden. 


AUGUST 

Gilbert  White — The  decline  of  vegetable  culture  in  the  Middle 
Ages— Preserving  French  Beans  and  Scarlet  Eunners — Scotch 
gardens — Tropaolum  speciosttm — Crimson-berried  Elder — The 
coast  of  Sutherlandshire— The  abuse  of  coarse  Creepers. 

August  1st. — I  cannot  allow  a  summer  to  go  by  without 
referring  to  that  dear  old  classic,  Gilbert  White's  '  Natural 
History  of  Selborne.'  Even  now  I  do  not  quite  know 
why  I  am  so  fond  of  these  letters,  except  that  they  show 
strongly  the  observant  eye  and  the  genuine  love  of  Nature 
which  are  so  sympathetic  to  me.  When  I  was  young 
my  mother  gave  me  the  book  to  read,  and  it  bored  me 
considerably.  I  thought  the  long  speculations  about 
the  hibernating  of  birds — Swifts,  Swallows,  and  others — 
so  tiresome ;  especially  as  I  knew  for  sure  that  they 
migrated.  I,  almost  a  child,  knew  that.  In  those  days  I 
just  panted  for  what  was  coming ;  the  saying  c  old  days  ' 
to  me  meant  the  present,  which  was  older  than  the  past 
and  growing  each  day,  as  I  grew  myself,  to  greater 
maturity,  I  did  not  understand  what  people  meant  by 
referring  to  the  days  which  were  behind  as  '  the  old  days/ 
for  they  represented  to  me  the  youth  of  time.  I  longed 
to  live  the  day  after  to-morrow  before  it  came,  if  only  that 
were  possible.  Everything  new  interested  me ;  I  thought 
the  world  was  moving  so  fast ;  and  now  that  my  life  is 
nearly  over,  it  is  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Progress 
is  indeed  like  the  old  Greek  pattern,  a  continuous  un- 
broken line,  but  curling  back  and  inwards  for  long  periods 


146     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

before  it  starts  a  new  development.  Just  now  even  the 
enthusiastic  and  the  young  are  trying  to  live  in  the  past — 
a  whole  generation  conservative  in  its  youth.  I  suppose 
it  is  all  right,  but  it  seems  to  lack  the  generous  impulses 
of  the  generation  nourished  on  the  teachings  of  Mill  and 
Bright.  How  true  it  is  that  Liberalism  is  not  a  principle, 
but  an  attitude  of  mind !  And  the  old  Greek  pattern  will 
start  its  long  line  forward  again  some  day. 

Now  that  hope  is  over  for  me,  the  old  times,  with 
heir  edifying  lessons,  interest  me  most ;  and  so  I  try  to 
understand  the  evolution  of  the  present  as  taught  through 
knowledge  of  the  past,  rather  than  breathlessly  to  grasp 
the  future.  My  mother  was  so  kind  and  sensible  with 
me.  So  many  parents  are  apt  to  be  irritated  by 
daughters  who  bound  forward  in  life  as  children  pick 
flowers  in  a  field,  always  thinking  there  are  many  more 
and  much  finer  ones  just  a  little  further  on. 

Though  it  is  now  little  over  a  hundred  years  since 
Gilbert  White  died,  his  pictures  of  the  change  within  his 
memory  in  the  general  condition  of  the  poor,  and  of  the 
improvement  in  agriculture,  gardens  and  health,  seem 
most  strange.  Leprosy  still  existed  in  Selborne,  though 
it  was  much  on  the  decline.  He  attributes  this  partly  to 
improved  food  and  partly  to  wearing  clean  linen  instead 
of  dirty  woollen  garments.  As  to  the  produce  of  a 
garden,  he  adds,  '  Every  middle-aged  person  of  observa- 
tion may  perceive,  within  his  own  memory,  both  in  town 
and  country,  how  vastly  the  consumption  of  vegetables 
is  increased.  Green  stalls  in  cities  now  support  multi- 
tudes in  a  comfortable  state,  while  gardeners  get 
fortunes.  Potatoes  have  prevailed  in  this  district,  by 
means  of  premiums,  within  these  twenty  years  only,  and 
are  much  esteemed  here  now  by  the  poor,  who  would 
scarce  have  ventured  to  taste  them  in  the  last  reign. 

'  Our  Saxon  ancestors  certainly  had  some  sort  of  Cab- 


AUGUST  147 

bage,  because  they  call  the  month  of  February  "  Sprout- 
cale  "  ;  but  long  after  their  days  the  cultivation  of  gardens 
was  little  attended  to.  The  religious,  being  men  of 
leisure,  and  keeping  up  a  constant  correspondence  with 
Italy,  were  the  first  people  among  us  who  had  gardens  and 
fruit  trees  in  any  perfection,  within  the  walls  of  their  abbeys 
and  priories.  The  barons  neglected  every  pursuit  that 
did  not  lead  to  war  or  tend  to  the  pleasure  of  the  chase.' 

It  seems  to  me  from  this  exceedingly  probable  that 
gardens  declined  very  much  in  England  after  the  Eefor- 
mation,  and  no  doubt  the  eating  of  vegetables,  like  the 
eating  of  fish,  may  have  been  considered  Popish.  Even 
in  my  childhood  I  can  remember  that  salad  was  rarely 
seen  at  any  but  the  tables  of  the  very  wealthy,  who  had 
foreign  cooks,  and  then  it  was  covered  with  a  rich  cream 
sauce,  full  of  mustard,  which  was  supposed  to  make  it 
digestible.  This  superstition  of  the  day  was  pointedly 
brought  forward  in  some  letters  I  found  of  my  grand- 
mother's to  my  father  at  Oxford,  strongly  recommending 
him  to  take  mustard-seeds  before  his  meals  as  very 
helpful  to  digestion. 

I  am  far  from  suggesting  that  the  Eeformation  had, 
on  the  whole,  an  injurious  effect  on  England,  but 
indirectly  in  many  ways  it  seems  to  have  led  to  curious 
and  even  pernicious  results.  Among  the  most  peculiar 
of  these  was  the  increase  of  piracy  in  Elizabeth's  reign. 
The  following  account,  given  in  Froude's '  English  Seamen 
in  the  Sixteenth  Century,'  will  explain  what  I  mean : — *  In 
harbour  there  were  still  a  score  of  large  ships,  but  they 
were  dismantled  and  rotting ;  of  artillery  fit  for  sea  work 
there  was  none.  The  men  were  not  to  be  had,  and,  as 
Sir  William  Cecil  said,  to  fit  out  ships  without  men  was 
to  set  armour  on  stakes  on  the  seashore.  The  mariners 
of  England  were  otherwise  engaged  and  in  a  way  that 
did  not  please  Cecil.  He  was  the  ablest  Minister  that 

L2 


148  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Elizabeth  had.  He  saw  at  once  that  on  the  Navy  the 
prosperity  and  even  the  liberty  of  England  must  even- 
tually depend.  If  England  were  to  remain  Protestant,  it 
was  not  by  Articles  of  religion  or  Acts  of  Uniformity  that 
she  could  be  saved,  without  a  fleet  at  the  back  of  them. 
But  he  was  old-fashioned.  He  believed  in  law  and  order, 
and  he  has  left  a  curious  paper  of  reflections  on  the 
situation.  The  ships'  companies  in  Henry  VIII.'s  days 
were  recruited  from  the  fishing  smacks,  but  the  Eefor- 
mation  itdelf  had  destroyed  the  fishing  trade.  In  old 
times,  Cecil  said,  no  flesh  was  eaten  on  fish  days.  The 
King  himself  could  not  have  license.  Now  to  eat  beef  or 
mutton  on  fish  days  was  the  test  of  a  true  believer.  .  .  . 
The  fishermen  had  taken  to  privateering  because  the  fasts 
of  the  Church  were  neglected.  He  saw  it  was  so.  He 
recorded  his  own  opinion  that  piracy,  as  he  called  it,  was 
detestable,  and  could  not  last.  He  was  to  find  that  it 
could  last,  that  it  was  to  form  the  special  discipline  of 
the  generation  whose  business  it  would  be  to  fight  the 
Spaniards.  But  he  struggled  hard  against  the  unwelcome 
conclusion.  He  tried  to  revive  lawful  trade  by  a  Navi- 
gation Act.  He  tried  to  restore  the  fisheries  by  Act  of 
Parliament.  He  introduced  a  Bill  recommending  godly 
abstinence  as  a  means  to  virtue,  making  the  eating  of 
meat  on  Fridays  and  Saturdays  a  misdemeanour,  and 
adding  Wednesday  as  a  half  fish  day.  The  House  of 
Commons  laughed  at  him  as  bringing  back  Popish 
mummeries.  To  please  the  Protestants  he  inserted  a 
clause  that  the  statute  was  politically  meant  for  the 
increase  of  fishermen  and  mariners,  not  for  any  super- 
stition in  the  choice  of  meats  ;  but  it  was  no  use.  The 
Act  was  called  in  mockery  "  Cecil's  Fast,"  and  the  recovery 
of  the  fisheries  had  to  wait  till  the  natural  inclination  of 
human  stomachs  for  fresh  whiting  and  salt  cod  should 
revive  in  itself.' 


AUGUST  149 

I  have  made  this  long  extract  because  it  seems  to  me 
to  throw  an  exceedingly  interesting  side-light  on  the  non- 
cultivation,  and  above  all  on  the  bad  cooking,  of  vege- 
tables, which  extended  to  a  great  degree  into  my  child- 
hood. Even  to-day,  in  spite  of  the  increased  quantity  of 
vegetables  and  their  comparative  cheapness,  it  is  rare  to 
see  them  in  any  variety  in  English  family  life ;  and  I 
am  told  that  at  ordinary  clubs  Potatoes  and  Brussels 
Sprouts  represent  in  winter  the  vegetable  kingdom. 
What  is  still  more  remarkable  is  that  the  absence  of 
vegetables  has  now  extended  to  all  the  principal  foreign 
hotels,  with  the  probable  notion  of  suiting  the  English 
taste. 

In  the  early  Protestant  days  meat  was  no  doubt  eaten 
with  a  religious  zeal,  and  the  cultivation  and  cooking  of 
vegetables  was  utterly  neglected.  The  old  gardens  of  the 
monasteries  ran  to  ruin  even  quicker  than  the  fish-ponds. 
It  became  a  point  of  national  honour  to  disregard  the 
methods  of  cooking  vegetables  which  had  been  brought 
by  the  monks,  who  were  men  of  taste,  from  France  and 
Italy.  Proper  cooking  alone  makes  ordinary  vegetables 
palatable,  and  improves  even  the  very  best.  The  extra- 
ordinary development  of  the  vegetable,  fruit,  and  flower 
trade  is  one  of  the  most  marked  changes  of  my  lifetime. 
When  I  was  young,  it  was  impossible  in  the  West  End  of 
London  to  buy  any  flowers  at  all  in  the  streets  or  shops. 
If  we  did  not  winter  in  the  South  of  France,  but  remained 
in  London,  we  had  to  go  to  some  nursery  gardens  that 
lay  between  Eutland  Gate  and  Kensington  in  order  to 
buy  a  few  Violets. 

Froude  says,  about  another  strange  effect  of  the  Ee- 
formation,  'It  probably,  more  than  any  other  cause, 
stopped  the  development  of  painting  in  England.  Holbein 
had  no  pupils.  Zuccaro  left  the  country  in  disgust.  All 
portraits  that  remain  were  painted  by  foreigners.'  The 


150  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

worst  kings  from  the  political  point  of  view  have  been 
the  best  from  that  of  painting.  Charles  I.  was  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule,  and  his  magnificent  gallery  was  sold 
by  Parliament  in  1645  for  38,OOOZ.,  apparently  without 
protest. 

Of  all  the  months  in  the  year,  this  is  perhaps  the  one 
in  which  the  keenest  amateur  can  best  afford  to  leave 
home ;  and  if  I  do  not  go  away,  it  is  the  one  I  can  best 
spare  to  my  gardener  for  his  holiday.  In  August  hope, 
as  far  as  the  year  is  concerned,  is  over.  There  is  nothing 
that  imperatively  requires  doing ;  nearly  all  there  is  to  do 
can  be  as  well  done  in  July  or  September.  After  deciding 
to  leave  home  I  gave  instructions  that  the  young  French 
Beans  and  Scarlet  Eunners  should  be  picked  over,  almost 
daily,  so  that  none  should  grow  coarse  and  old ;  and  that 
the  cook  should  lay  them  separately,  as  they  were  brought 
in,  in  large  earthenware  pans — a  handful  of  Beans  and 
then  a  handful  of  salt,  and  so  on  till  the  pan  was  full. 
This  is  an  excellent  method  ;  and  I  have  eaten  them,  pre- 
served in  this  way,  all  through  the  winter.  I  believe  this 
is  done  everywhere  abroad,  but  never  in  England,  where 
the  waste,  both  in  the  kitchen  and  the  garden,  is,  as  we  all 
acknowledge,  a  national  vice.  Of  course  the  Beans  in  the 
salt  must  not  be  allowed  to  get  touched  by  frost  in  the 
autumn.  When  wanted,  they  are  taken  out,  well  soaked  (to 
prevent  their  being  too  salt),  boiled  in  the  ordinary  way — 
cut  up  or  whole,  as  we  like  them  best — then  drained,  and 
warmed  up  in  fresh  butter,  a  squeeze  of  lemon  and  a  little 
chopped  Parsley  on  the  top.  They  can  also  be  cooked 
with  a  white  cream  sauce.  All  this  is  well  described  for 
fresh  Beans  in  '  Dainty  Dishes.'  I  think  these  salted 
Beans  have  more  flavour  than  the  tinned  ones,  or  than 
those  that  come  from  Madeira  in  the  winter.  Besides, 
the  principle  of  utilising  everything  in  a  garden  should 
never  be  lost  sight  of. 


AUGUST  151 

This  year  fate  took  us  to  the  North,  to  Northumberland, 
the  home  of  my  maternal  family,  from  which  my  mother 
in  her  youth,  with  the  whole  large  family,  travelled  twice 
a  year  on  the  old  North  Road  to  London  and  back  in 
carriages  and  coaches.  One  of  my  mother's  aunts  used 
to  tell  a  story  of  how  in  her  youth  she  had  had  her  hair 
dressed  in  London  to  appear  at  a  Newcastle  ball,  and 
she  added  with  pride,  '  When  I  entered  the  ball-room  I 
had  my  reward.' 

I  was  surprised  to  find  that  the  great  changes  that 
have  come  over  our  Southern  gardens  by  the  re-introducing 
the  old-fashioned  flowers  and  the  old  methods  of  culti- 
vating them  are  much  less  noticeable  in  the  North. 
Apparently  changes  work  slower  in  the  North  than 
around  London.  I  wonder  why  this  is?  People  there 
have  the  same  books,  the  same  newspapers,  and  the  same 
climatic  advantage  as  in  Scotland,  which  makes  the 
herbaceous  plants  grow  to  great  perfection,  and  flower 
much  longer  than  in  the  South.  One  would  have  thought 
the  fashion  which  has  so  influenced  us  would  have 
influenced  them.  I  saw  in  many  places  long  borders 
planted  with  rows  of  red,  violet,  white,  yellow,  and  purple 
— vistas  of  what  used  to  be  called  ribbon-borders,  very  un- 
picturesque  at  the  best,  and  nearly  always  unsatisfactory. 
Why  they  ever  came  in,  and  why  they  have  lasted  so  long, 
it  is  difficult  to  understand.  The  gardens  of  rich  and  poor, 
big  house  and  villa,  were  planted  on  the  same  system — 
perennials  in  lines,  annuals  in  lines,  Mignonette  in  lines ; 
and  where  long  lines  were  not  possible,  the  planting  was 
in  rows  round  the  shrubberies,  which  is,  I  think,  the 
ugliest  thing  I  know.  If  shrubberies  are  planted  with 
flowers  at  all,  I  like  large  holes  cut  back,  which  makes  a 
good  protection,  and  plants  introduced  in  bold  groups.  I 
did  not  see  one  garden  while  I  was  away — whose  owners 
ought  to  have  known  better — where  things  were  what  I 


152     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

call  well  planted,  in  good  bold  masses  of  colour ;  whereas 
near  Dublin  more  than  two  years  ago  I  found  the  best 
herbaceous  border  I  have  ever  seen.  The  way  of  plant- 
ing in  this  Dublin  border,  with  all  the  reds  in  one  place, 
and  the  blues,  the  yellows,  and  the  whites  kept  apart  as 
much  as  possible,  was  as  superior  to  the  dotted  arrange- 
ment as  the  dotted  system  is  to  the  line,  in  my  opinion. 
I  even  saw  in  some  places  this  year  what  I  as  a  child 
had  remembered  as  old  mixed  borders,  turned  into  that 
terrible  gardening  absurdity,  carpet-bedding — the  pride, 
I  suppose,  of  the  gardener  and  the  admiration  of  his 
friends.  This  is  never  to  be  seen  now  in  Surrey,  I  think, 
except  in  certain  beds  at  Hampton  Court ;  and  why  it  is 
continued  there  I  find  it  hard  to  understand,  unless  it 
is  that  it  really  does  give  pleasure  to  Londoners,  and 
certainly  in  its  way  it  is  carried  out  to  great  perfection. 

I  had  always  heard  of  the  brilliant  beauty  of  Scotch 
gardens,  and  the  moment  I  saw  them  I  understood  why 
it  was.  The  seasons  are  so  late  that  all  the  summer 
flowers  bloom  together ;  May  and  June  of  the  South 
merge  into  July  and  August  in  Scotland,  and  everything 
is  in  flower  at  once.  No  wonder  the  gardens  look  bright ; 
besides,  the  damp  air  makes  the  colours  more  beautiful 
and  the  scent  stronger. 

It  is,  I  think,  very  interesting  to  the  gardener,  where- 
ever  he  goes,  to  see  how  the  common  everyday  things 
flourish  more  in  one  place  than  another.  The  Highlands 
seem  to  be  the  home  of  the  Gooseberry — such  old  and 
hoary  bushes,  more  or  less  covered  by  grey  Lichens,  but 
laden  none  the  less  with  little  hairy  Gooseberries,  both 
red  and  green,  and  full  of  flavour.  There,  too,  the 
beautiful  Tropczolum  speciosum,  South  American  stranger 
as  it  is,  flames  and  flourishes  and  luxuriates  everywhere, 
growing  too,  as  it  will  not  do  in  the  South,  in  full  sun- 
shine. The  seed  is  so  lovely  in  Scotland,  almost  as 


AUGUST  153 

beautiful  as  the  flower  itself— three  dark  steel-blue 
seeds  set  in  the  dying  flower,  which  turns  a  rich  brown. 
Was  ever  anything  more  daintily  beautiful  to  be  seen  ? 
It  can  be  grown  up  strings,  as  in  the  picture  in  the 
'  English  Flower  Garden ' ;  but  I  do  not  think  that  is  as 
pretty  as  rambling  with  its  delicate  growth  over  some 
light  creeper,  such  as  Jasmine  or  Eose,  as  I  recommended 
before.  I  did  not  see  in  the  Highlands,  rather  to  my 
surprise,  though  I  believe  it  is  planted  in  some  places, 
the  beautiful  crimson -berried  Elder,  Sambucus  racemosa. 
This  was  the  one  remarkable  plant-feature  I  saw  in 
Norway  last  year.  I  was  there  too  late  to  see  the  wild 
flowers.  It  had  not  been  imported  very  long,  they  told 
us,  and  it  adorned  all  the  stations  (there  is  only  one  short 
railway  in  Norway),  throwing  out  long  branches  covered 
with  bunches  of  crimson  berries,  which  are  shaped  like 
the  black  bunches  on  the  Privet  rather  than  like  the  flat 
berries  of  the  common  Elder.  At  a  distance  the  plant 
looks,  when  covered  with  ripe  berries,  like  a  beautiful 
Crimson  Rambler.  It  is  singularly  effective,  and  I  have 
never  seen  it  in  England.  I  imagine  this  must  be 
because,  if  it  grew  and  berried  ever  so  well  in  damp 
places,  the  birds  would  soon  clear  off  all  the  fruit.  In 
Norway  there  seem  to  be  no  small  birds,  for  there  the 
berries  hung  for  weeks  and  weeks,  in  crimson  loveliness. 
The  shrub  is  about  the  height  of  Lilac  bushes  ;  the  berries 
grow  on  the  old  wood,  and  the  growth  of  the  year  is  a 
most  brilliant  green.  It  is  a  plant  that  more  people 
should  try  to  grow  in  damp  situations. 

We  were  far  North,  up  in  Sutherlandshire,  where  the 
great  storm  of  two  years  ago  laid  bare  miles  and  miles  of 
forest.  I  never  saw  a  more  curious  sight — pathetic  and 
sad  too,  in  a  way.  The  poor  trees,  which  had  from  their 
youth  up  been  accustomed  to  storms  from  the  south  and 
west,  had  sent  out  long  roots,  and  buried  them  deep  under 


154     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

rocks  and  stones,  which  gave  them  firm  hold  to  resist  the 
blast.  But  on  this  November  morning  two  years  ago 
the  snow  was  on  the  tree-tops,  which  made  them  heavy, 
and  the  furious  gale  swept  on  them  from  the  north,  and 
down  they  fell  in  thousands — whole  hillsides  laid  bare, 
without  one  tree  left  standing,  all  torn  up  by  the  roots. 
It  will  be  many  years  before  the  countryside  is  cleared 
of  its  own  fallen  timber. 

We  lived  a  mile  from  the  sea.  The  Sutherlandshire  coast 
is  tame  enough,  but  beautifully  desolate — no  travellers, 
no  tourists,  nothing  to  disturb  the  solitude.  I  am  not 
very  fond  of  the  East  Coast,  as  there  in  the  afternoon  one 
is  only  able  to  enjoy  reflected  sunshine.  It  always 
reminds  me  of  friends  as  they  grow  cold ;  they  ex- 
pect us  to  be  warmed  by  the  sunshine  of  yesterday. 
Once  I  went  down  alone  to  the  shore ;  it  was  a  beauti- 
ful evening,  with  hundreds  of  shades  of  pearly  greys 
and  pinks  reflected  on  sand  and  wave — an  evening  to 
make  mean  things  noble  and  costly  things  ridiculous,  an 
evening  that  humbles  one  down  to  the  very  dust,  and  yet 
lifts  one  clean  off  one's  feet  with  enthusiasm  and  exultation. 
I  remember  years  ago  a  friend  of  mine  telling  me  she 
had  met  Jenny  Lind,  who  had  then  just  left  the  stage,  at 
a  quiet  South  Coast  seaside  bathing-place.  Jenny  Lind 
was  sitting  on  the  steps  of  a  bathing-machine,  and  my  friend 
began  talking  to  her  and  asking  her '  if  she  did  not  think 
she  would  miss  terribly  the  excitement  of  acting.'  '  Very 
likely,'  she  answered,  'but  I  had  ceased  to  be  able  to 
admire  that,'  pointing  to  the  great  gold  sun  going  down 
in  its  glory,  '  and  I  had  ceased  to  be  able  to  read  this,' 
tapping  a  Bible  that  lay  on  her  knees.  '  Don't  you  think 
it  was  time  to  give  it  up  ?  ' 

I  had  not  been  five  minutes  on  this  lonely  Sutherland 
shore  before  I  counted  quite  ten  wild  sea-birds  of  dif- 
ferent kinds  flying  around,  screaming  to  each  other,  and 


AUGUST  155 

floating  about  on  the  tiny  waves  that  broke  gently  on  the 
sand.  I  suppose  few  can  hear  that  sound  of  the  waves 
without  thinking  of  Tennyson's  'Break,  break,  break.' 
A  little  poem  of  Emerson's,  much  less  known,  is  a  great 
favourite  of  mine,  full  as  it  is  of  a  tender  double 

meaning  :— 

The  delicate  shells  lay  on  the  shore ; 

The  bubbles  of  the  latest  wave 

Fresh  pearl  to  their  enamel  gave, 

And  the  bellowing  of  the  savage  sea 

Greeted  their  safe  escape  to  me. 

I  wiped  away  the  weeds  and  foam, 

And  brought  my  sea-born  treasures  home ; 

But  the  poor,  unsightly,  noisome  things 

Had  left  their  beauty  on  the  shore 

With  the  sun  and  the  sand  and  the  wild  uproar. 

I  feel  these  lines  reproach  me  for  my  many  quotations. 
Have  we  any  right  to  pick  beautiful  things  out  of  books 
and  quote  them  without  their  context  ?  I  suspect  not,  and 
I  beg  you  all  to  consider,  if  you  find  them  deficient,  that 
it  is  I  who  have  taken  them  away  from  '  the  sun  and  the 
sand  and  the  wild  uproar.' 

In  the  grounds  of  the  great  castle  we  were  near  was 
a  very  interesting  museum.  What  an  excellent  thing 
is  a  private  museum  in  a  large  place !  It  would  be 
a  great  advantage,  I  think,  if  it  were  started  on  many 
estates,  or  even  in  villages,  as  then  the  barbaric  things 
and  various  specimens  of  natural  history  which  different 
members  of  a  family  bring  home  might  be  kept  where 
they  are  of  distinct  interest,  instead  of  crowding  up  a 
modern  sitting-room,  where  they  look  totally  inappropriate 
and  even  ugly. 

There  had  always  been  a  tradition  that  one  of  the 
ships  belonging  to  the  Spanish  Armada  had  been 
wrecked  off  this  coast,  but  no  treasure  had  ever  been 
found.  Two  years  ago,  when  the  river  was  low,  a 


156     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

cow  went  into  the  mud  to  drink,  and  came  out  with  a 
splendid  Spanish  old  gold  coin  of  the  time  of  the  Armada 
stuck  in  her  hoof.  Nothing  more  was  discovered,  but  as 
the  river  was  tidal  it  was  a  curious  confirmation  of  the 
old  tradition.  On  our  way  South  we  could  not  help 
noticing  how  far  more  beautiful  Scotland  is  than  Norway. 
The  Heather  was  unusually  fine  this  year.  We  stayed  a 
night  in  Edinburgh,  which  gave  me  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  pictures  in  the  National  Gallery.  I  wonder  if 
many  tourists  visit  it?  The  morning  I  was  there  I 
did  not  see  two  people  in  the  gallery.  Besides  the 
Eaeburns,  which  are  of  world-wide  fame,  several  pictures 
stand  out  with  peculiar  interest,  especially  the  life-sized 
Gainsborough  of  the  young  Mrs.  Grahame.  She  sat  for 
this  picture  as  a  bride,  but  before  it  came  home  she  was 
dead  and  her  husband  had  gone  to  the  wars.  When  he 
came  back,  he  never  had  the  courage  to  open  the  case 
which  contained  his  young  wife's  portrait.  On  his  deathr 
many  long  years  after  it  was  painted,  it  was  opened  by 
his  heirs,  and  inside  the  case  was  the  little  white  slipper 
she  had  left  with  the  painter  to  help  him  to  finish  his 
picture.  The  portrait  was  given  to  the  Edinburgh 
Gallery,  and  the  slipper  was  kept  by  the  family.  It  is 
worth  noting  that  an  oil  picture  should  have  remained 
so  long  shut  up  and  apparently  not  deteriorated  in  any 
way.  There  is  a  lovely  Greuze,  one  of  the  prettiest  I 
have  ever  seen,  a  child  of  about  fourteen  crying  over  a 
dead  canary;  an  exquisite  little  Boucher  of  Mme.  de 
Pompadour;  a  large  picture  by  the  eighteenth-century 
Venetian  painter  Tiepolo,  whose  works  are  rarely  seen 
out  of  Venice.  The  picture  gives  one  more  impression  of 
his  power  and  cleverness  than  it  delights  one  with  its 
beauty.  The  expression,  character,  and  sex  are  described 
by  the  power  of  the  brush  as  completely  as  by  the  word- 
painting  of  a  Paul  Bourget  novel.  What  added  to  my 


AUGUST  157 

interest  in  Tiepolo  was  the  revival  of  admiration  his  works 
have  lately  had  among  young  French  painters.  I  was 
immensely  pleased  at  seeing  a  portrait  of  the  painter 
Martin,  by  himself — a  red-haired  youth,  with  the  cold 
dreamy  eyes  of  the  artistic  temperament,  a  mouth  rather 
sensual  than  passionate,  a  fine  brow,  and  a  slightly  receding 
chin,  which  gave  a  touch  of  weakness  to  the  face.  All  my 
life  I  have  so  admired  his  wildly  imaginative  illustrations 
of  the  Bible,  Milton,  &c.  The  impression  given  by  the 
portrait  is  of  a  touching,  interesting  face,  with  that  look 
of  sorrow  which  so  appeals  to  one,  especially  in  the  young. 
The  gods  do  not  always  remember  that  those  whom  they 
love  should  die  young.  Poor  Martin  did  not  die  till  middle 
life,  and  went  mad,  I  believe. 

On  leaving  Edinburgh  we  returned  to  Tweed-side, 
where  we  saw  several  of  the  old  Border  towers  and  the 
really  fine  '  stately  homes '  of  England.  Here  I  was 
struck  by  the  same  mistake  which  prevails  in  the  South. 
The  walls  and  shapes  of  fine  old  houses  are  ruined  by 
allowing,  even  on  the  southern  and  western  aspects,  a 
rampageous  growth  of  coarse  creepers,  such  as  Ivy,  the 
common  Virginia  Creeper,  and  Ampelopsis  veitchii.  This 
last  is  the  most  insidious  and  destructive  of  all,  as  no 
kitten  compared  to  a  cat,  and  no  baby  donkey  compared 
to  an  old  one,  could  ever  more  completely  change  its 
character  from  youth  to  age  than  does  this  creeper. 
When  first  planted,  the  tiny,  delicate  growth  that  creeps 
up  the  mullioned  windows  is  as  pretty  and  harmless  as 
anything  can  be  ;  but  in  a  year  or  two  all  this  turns  into 
a  huge  mass  of  green  leaves  of  an  even  shape  and  size, 
smothering  up  any  less  strong-growing  creeper  and 
destroying  all  outline  of  the  house  itself,  its  tiny  feet 
sticking  so  fast  to  the  stone  or  brick  work  that,  if  you  try 
to  pull  them  away,  small  particles  of  the  wall  itself  come 
with  them.  Besides  the  temptation  of  its  beautiful  early 


158     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

growth,  one  must  admit  that  for  ten  days  the  red  and 
bronze  and  gold  of  its  autumn  tints  go  far  to  compensate 
for  its  many  defects  during  the  rest  of  the  year.  But  this 
pleasure  is  easily  retained  by  allowing  it  to  grow  over 
some  ugly  barn  or  northern  wall,  which  has  no  architecture 
to  injure  or  hide,  and  where  flowering  creepers  would  not 
flower.  No  one  who  has  ever  been  to  America  and  seen 
Boston  can  forget  the  dreary  effect  of  house  after  house 
covered  from  cellar  to  roof  with  this  luxuriant,  overpower- 
ing '  Vine,'  as  every  Creeper  is  called  in  America.  The 
true  name  of  the  Ampelopsis  is  Tricuspidata ;  but  the 
Americans  call  it  Japanese  Ivy,  in  memory  of  where  it 
comes  from.  If  anything  could  accentuate  the  ugliness 
of  the  general  effect,  it  is  the  square  holes  cut  for  the 
windows  in  this  evenly  green  foliage.  Everything  is 
worth  having  in  London  that  will  grow  there,  but,  with 
this  picture  in  my  mind,  may  I  urge  all  who  have  any 
influence  to  make  some  protest  against  the  fashionable 
use  of  this  creeper,  which  seems  to  prevail  from  South  to 
North  of  Great  Britain  ?  Just  before  I  left  home  I  saw 
with  consternation  that  every  delicate  brick  turret  of 
Hampton  Court  Palace  had  been  carefully  planted  with 
Ampelopsis.  For  the  present  it  looks  harmless  enough 
to  all  but  the  prophetic  eye  of  a  gardener,  but  in  a  few 
years  the  sharp  lines  of  the  delicate  masonry  will  be 
entirely  veiled  by  its  luxuriant  and  monotonous  growth. 
Surely  fine  and  historical  buildings  are  very  much  better 
left  without  creepers.  In  the  case  of  ordinary  modern 
houses  with  bare  walls  it  is  infinitely  better  to  cover  them 
with  some  of  the  endless  variety  of  shrubs,  creepers,  and 
plants,  which  can  be  chosen  to  flower  in  succession 
through  the  whole  year — from  the  Chimonanthusfragrans, 
which  pushes  forth  its  sweet-scented  brown  flowers  in 
January,  to  the  bare  branches  of  the  Jasminum  nudi- 
florum,  whose  yellow  stars  light  up  a  December  fog. 


AUGUST  159 

Eeturning  from  Scotland,  we  spent  a  few  days  near 
Lancaster.  The  town  is  picturesquely  situated.  It  is 
full  of  sketching  possibilities  for  those  who  delight,  as 
Turner  did,  in  the  glorification  of  commonplace  objects 
by  the  veiling  and  unveiling  of  smoke,  and  in  the  con- 
stant colour-changes  produced  by  the  same.  A  very 
handsome  bridge  crosses  the  broad  Lune,  and  carries 
the  Preston  and  Kendal  canal.  This  is  one  of  the 
curious  historical  records  of  the  waste  of  a  people's 
money,  and  absolutely  dead  speculation.  This  canal  was 
just  finished,  with  its  magnificent  engineering,  at  great 
expense  and  with  high  hopes  of  its  usefulness,  imme- 
diately before  the  railways  came  and  rendered  it  almost 
useless.  Sleepy  barges  glide  along  it,  profiting  by  its 
dignified  engineering,  and  creeping  under  its  countless 
bridges  as  they  never  could  have  done  had  it  been  cease- 
lessly ploughed  by  small  steamers,  as  was  intended.  I 
do  not  exactly  know  why,  but  it  brought  back  to  my 
mind — from  a  consecutiveness  of  idea,  I  suppose — the 
elaborate  fortifications  of  Quebec,  the  pride  of  George  III.'s 
heart,  upon  which  had  been  spent  the  nation's  money  and 
labour,  and  which  were  scarcely  finished  when  the 
developments  of  modern  warfare  rendered  them  useless. 
Not  very  far  from  Lancaster,  at  Levens,  is  the  famous 
example  of  topiary  gardening  which  figures  in  the  last 
edition  of  the  '  English  Flower  Garden.'  I  was  unfor- 
tunately prevented  from  going  to  see  it  by  deluges  of 
rain. 


160     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY   GARDEN 


SEPTEMBER 

Weeds  we  alternately  love  and  hate — Amaryllis  belladonna — First 
touch  of  frost — Colour-blindness — Special  annuals — Autumn 
seed-sowing— Ee-planting  Carnation  layers — Planting  drives  and 
approaches  to  small  houses — « Wild  gardening  ' — Double  Violets— 
Salvias — Baby  chickens — Pigeons. 

September  11th. — In  talking  of  the  Welsh  Poppy  in  July 
I  spoke  of  it  as  one  of  the  plants  which  are  such  weeds 
that  at  times  one  says,  '  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  never 
introduced  the  horrible  thing  into  the  garden  at  all ! ' 
Another  of  these  is  the  Campanula  ranunculus,  or  Creep- 
ing Bell-flower — '  creeping,'  not  because  of  its  growth,  but 
because  of  its  root.  After  rain  in  July,  August,  or  Sept- 
ember, or  even  much  later,  I  know  nothing  more  lovely 
than  the  way  it  throws  up  its  flower-stems,  quite  in 
unexpected  places.  These  when  picked  and  fixed  in 
vases  in  the  Japanese  way  are  most  graceful,  and  last  a 
long  time  in  water.  Another  terrible  weed  is  the  wild 
annual  Balsam,  Impatiens  glandulifera,  which  sows  itself 
in  the  most  audacious  and  triumphant  manner ;  but  it 
takes  little  root-hold,  and  is  easy  to  pull  up  in  the  spring. 
What  a  wonderfully  handsome,  yet  delicate,  plant  it  is  ! 
with  its  beautiful  flowers,  its  long  pointed  leaves,  its  red 
square  stems,  its  seed-vessels  shaped  like  buds,  which 
burst  with  a  crack  and  scatter  the  seeds  far  and  wide. 
Were  the  plant  difficult  to  grow,  no  garden  or  greenhouse 
would  be  without  it.  It  deserves  a  place,  even  if  reduced 
to  one  plant,  in  every  moderate-sized  garden ;  it  looks 


SEPTEMBER  161 

especially  well  grown  as  a  single  plant  in  good  soil.  To 
add  to  its  perfections  it  has  a  delicate,  sweet  smell,  and 
does  well  in  water.  Gardeners  will  always  look  upon  it, 
with  a  show  of  reason,  as  a  horrid  weed ;  but  flower- 
lovers  will  never  be  without  it.  The  little  yellow 
Fumitory  is  invaluable  for  walls  and  dry  places  and 
under  shrubs,  always  looking  fresh  and  green  and 
flourishing,  however  dry  the  weather  or  apparently  un- 
favourable the  situation.  It  is  a  weed,  but  it  keeps  away 
other  weeds,  which,  as  the  old  nurse  said,  was  the  great 
use  of  mothers — they  kept  away  stepmothers.  Another 
low-growing,  fast- spreading  small  plant  I  strongly  recom- 
mend is  the  Polygonum  affine.  It  has  pink  flowers,  which 
continue  in  bloom  many  weeks ;  it  can  be  increased  with 
the  greatest  facility  by  division,  and  it  is  a  good  border 
plant,  as  the  leaves  take  beautiful  colours  in  the  autumn. 
The  hardy  Plumbago  larpenta  is  a  first-rate  plant  for  a 
sunny,  dry  place,  and  its  bright-blue  flowers  continue  till 
the  frost  comes.  Tradescantia  virginica  is  a  plant  con- 
stantly turned  out  of  borders,  as  it  spreads  so  fast ;  but  all 
it  requires  is  severe  thinning  in  the  spring,  and  again 
sometimes  in  the  summer.  I  have  four  shades — the 
ordinary  blue,  a  deep  red-purple  shade,  a  pale  grey,  and 
a  pure  white ;  they  are  lovely  flowers,  and  interesting 
through  their  unusual  shape.  All  these  last-mentioned 
plants  are  well  worth  growing  in  even  the  smallest  gardens. 
September  15th. — I  have  flowered  out  of  doors  this 
year  for  the  first  time  the  beautiful  Amaryllis  belladonna. 
Anyone  who  has  a  garden,  or  a  wall  or  a  corner  near  a 
greenhouse,  where  the  conditions  for  growing  this  Lily 
can  be  carried  out,  ought  to  spare  no  effort  to  make  it 
successful.  The  instructions  have  been  clearly  given 
in  the  '  English  Flower  Garden,'  but  I  have  found  two 
other  things  helped  the  growth — one  is  planting  them 
by  the  wall  of  the  greenhouse  where  the  warm  pipes  run ; 

M 


1 62  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

and  the  other  is,  when  the  leaves  have  died  down  in  June, 
and  the  earth  is  weeded  and  raked,  to  cover  the  beds 
where  the  bulbs  are  planted  with  pieces  of  glass,  so  that 
the  rains  of  July,  which  are  so  frequent,  should  not  damp 
the  bulbs  before  they  are  ready  to  start  into  flower  in 
September.  When  the  flower-buds  appear,  a  dose  of 
liquid  manure  may  be  given  them ;  and  a  little  fern  to 
protect  their  leaves  in  early  spring  is  desirable.  I  know 
nothing  more  beautiful  than  the  fine,  pink,  Lily-like  flower 
on  its  thick,  rich  brown  stem  when  brought  into  a  room. 
September  16th. — About  this  date  is  when  we  look, 
here  in  the  South,  for  the  first  sign  of  cold,  or  even  for  frost. 
The  weather  must  be  watched,  and  any  half-hardy  things 
that  have  not  done  flowering  are  best  taken  up,  potted, 
and  encouraged  to  go  on  flowering.  The  drought  this 
year  kept  many  things  back.  My  Tuberoses  and  the 
sweet-smelling  white  Bouvardia — the  one  best  worth 
growing,  especially  outside — I  must  now  take  up,  and 
they  will  go  on  flowering  in  the  greenhouse.  The  pink 
and  red  Bouvardias  are  pretty,  but  have  no  sweet  scent, 
like  the  white ;  the  pink  ones  are  a  true  pink,  and  that 
is  always  worth  cultivating  for  a  greenhouse,  where  every 
shade  of  magenta  should  be  excluded.  I  am  sure  many 
of  the  eye-shocks  we  receive  with  regard  to  colour — both 
in  dress,  in  rooms,  and  in  the  arrangement  of  flowers — is 
not  so  much  owing  to  what  would  be  called  bad  taste  as 
to  various  degrees  of  colour-blindness.  An  inability  to 
see  colours  at  all,  much  less  to  see  the  shades  truly  and 
correctly,  is  far  more  common  than  we  imagine,  and  is 
one  of  the  things  that  should  be  tested  in  child- 
ren, as — though  probably  the  defect  cannot  be  cured, 
any  more  than  short  sight,  which  is  now  so  much  helped 
by  glasses,  &c. — any  good  oculist  would  give  advice  as 
to  the  best  method  of  cultivating  the  eye  to  be  true  as 
regards  colour.  The  improvement  in  the  arrangement  of 


SEPTEMBER  163 

cut  flowers  in  the  last  twenty  years  is  very  great  indeed, 
and  in  almost  every  family  there  is  one  member  at  least 
who  gives  it  real  love  and  attention ;  but  I  hardly  ever 
see  a  greenhouse,  large  or  small,  that  is  not  left  entirely 
to  the  tender  mercy  of  the  gardener,  who  thinks  of 
nothing,  and  quite  rightly,  but  of  his  plants  being  healthy. 
He  spots  everything  about — red,  white,  blue,  grey,  yellow — 
and  often  in  the  very  midst  he  places  some  well-grown  but 
terrible  blue-pink  or  magenta  Pelargonium,  which  puts 
everything  out  of  tone.  In  the  greenhouse,  as  in  the 
garden,  two  things  are  to  be  aimed  at — form  and  colour  : 
and  in  a  greenhouse  one  must  be  sure  to  add  plants  that 
give  forth  a  sweet  smell.  To  get  the  colour  good,  you 
must  keep  the  plants  in  groups,  the  same  colours  as 
much  as  possible  together,  a  bold  mass  of  yellow,  red,  or 
blue,  dividing  them  with  green  or  nearly-green  plants. 
Cryptomeria  japonica  makes  a  charming  greenhouse 
shrub,  and  will  grow  in  very  small  pots,  and  not  grow 
quickly ;  it  is,  however,  only  one  of  many.  Another 
small  green  growth  that  is  very  pretty,  and  easy  to  grow 
and  increase  by  division,  is  Pilea  miiscosa.  For  smell  I 
know  nothing  more  delicious  than  the  mixture  of  Lilium 
auratum  and  Hmnea  elegans ;  but  lately  I  have  had  to 
give  up  that  tiresome  though  charming  half-hardy 
biennial,  as,  like  the  Hollyhocks,  it  is  so  apt  to  get  a 
disease,  its  leaves  growing  spotty  and  falling  off.  In  the 
'  English  Flower  Garden  '  it  is  said  that  this  happens 
from  sowing  it  too  early  the  previous  year.  A  thick- 
leaved  plant  called  Rochea  falcata  I  find  a  useful  green- 
house plant.  It  has  to  be  two  or  three  years  old  before 
it  flowers,  but  is  easy  to  increase  from  cuttings  in  July. 
I  tried  drying  it  off  like  the  Cactuses,  but  that  does  not 
answer ;  it  requires  a  warm  greenhouse  all  the  winter 
and  a  little  water.  For  baskets  in  the  greenhouse  I 
use  Fuchsia  procumbens ;  it  has  a  lovely  little  miniature 

M2 


1 64     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

flower,  and  later  a  pretty  fruit  three  times  as  big  as  the 
flower.  Campanula  garganica  (blue,  and  the  white  one 
too)  and  Convolvulus  mauritanicus  are  lovely  basket  plants. 
The  last-named,  nearly  hardy,  is  from  North  Africa, 
and  easy  to  increase  from  division  or  cuttings.  The 
Cape  Mesembryanthemums  are  pretty  basket  plants,  and 
do  well  in  a  sunny  greenhouse.  Small,  old-fashioned  Ivy- 
leaved  Geraniums  grow  prettily  in  baskets.  But  the 
flowers  are  endless  that  can  be  grown  in  this  way  ;  some 
require  a  saucer  to  keep  in  the  moisture,  others  do  not. 
Nothing,  however,  will  teach  all  this  but  experience  and 
constant  reference  to  the  books. 

Among  the  immense  mass  of  annuals  advertised  in 
catalogues  it  is  often  so  difficult  to  make  up  one's  mind 
what  to  have.  I  live,  luckily  for  me,  not  far  from 
Mr.  Barr's  Nursery  at  Long  Ditton,  and  this  gives  me 
a  chance  of  seeing  a  variety  of  plants  and  annuals  for 
which  no  private  garden  would  have  room.  Two  little 
half-hardy  annuals  that  flowered  this  year  for  a  very 
long  time  seem  to  me  well  worth  growing,  Alonsoa 
linifolia  and  A.  Warsceiviczii.  I  do  wish  such  small 
flowers  would  have  less  break- jaw  names.  They  are  low- 
growing  (about  a  foot  or  a  foot  and  a  half  high),  rather 
delicate-looking  little  plants ;  but  so  bright  in  colour,  one 
scarlet  and  the  other  scarlet  and  orange.  They  are  very 
effective  if  grown  in  a  good  large  clump.  Bartonia  aurea 
is  a  picturesque-growing  yellow  summer  annual,  which 
does  well  in  this  light  soil. 

Limnanthes  Douglasii,  a  Californian  annual,  is  much 
loved  of  bees  in  spring,  and,  if  sown  early  in  the  autumn, 
flowers  in  May.  Wallflowers  require  sowing  very  early 
for  the  following  year ;  also  all  the  Primrose  and  Poly- 
anthus tribe  are  all  better  sown  in  April.  I  know  nothing 
more  puzzling  in  gardening  than  the  times  of  sowing 
annuals  and  biennials  to  make  them  successful,  and  I 


SEPTEMBER  165 

imagine  they  must  have  different  treatment  in  different 
soils  and  climates.  Constant  practice  and  study  are  re- 
quired. All  the  autumn  things  do  best  here  sown  late  in 
April  or  at  the  beginning  of  May ;  otherwise  they  come  in 
too  early.  Early  annuals  and  late  annuals  are  worth  grow- 
ing in  this  light  soil ;  but  Poppies,  Salpiglossis,  Migno- 
nette, and  Sweet-peas  are,  I  think,  almost  the  only  summer 
annuals  we  make  room  for  every  year.  Eschscholtzias  and 
Musk  sow  themselves,  and  only  have  to  be  thinned.  The 
common  Hemp  (Cannabis  sativa)  is  a  lovely  foliage-plant 
when  well  grown  and  not  crowded  up. 

It  is  all-important  to  remember  in  the  sowing  of 
seeds  from  January  to  September,  be  it  in  heat  or  out 
of  doors,  and  whether  perennials,  biennials,  annuals,  or 
greenhouse  plants,  that  what  we  want  is  not  a  quantity 
of  seedlings  all  germinating  into  life  in  masses,  but  a  few 
fine  healthy  plants.  The  larger  and  cheaper  the  packet 
of  seed,  the  more  thinly  they  should  be  sown.  In  the 
case  of  rare  and  delicate  plants  it  is  well  to  sow  only  one 
seed  in  each  pot,  the  smallest  that  can  be  got  (I  have 
never  seen  any  so  small  as  the  French  ones),  sink  them 
in  a  box  with  cocoanut  fibre,  which  prevents  the 
necessity  of  constant  watering.  Seedlings,  like  all  other 
plants,  are  the  better  for  using  nothing  but  rain-water,  if 
possible.  If  the  sowing  is  done  in  a  seed  bed  out  of 
doors,  and  if  the  weather  is  very  dry,  it  is  best  to  soak 
the  ground  well  first  before  sowing,  and  then  cover  the 
tiny  seed  beds  with  fine  gravel,  leaving  the  small  stones 
in,  as  they  give  great  protection  to  the  seeds  from  the 
heat  of  the  sun.  We  have  all  noticed  the  vigour  with 
which  self-sown  seeds  grow  in  a  gravel  path.  Towards 
the  end  of  this  month,  or  at  the  beginning  of  the  next,  is 
the  time  to  take  the  early  layers  off  the  Carnations  and 
to  re-make  the  beds,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  plant  them  in 
clearly-named  rows  in  the  kitchen  garden,  so  that  they 


166  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

may  be  carefully  moved  in  the  spring  with  a  ball  of 
earth.  I  find  that  the  beds  made  up  in  early  autumn  do 
much  the  best,  though  one  is  loath  to  disturb  Carnations 
which  may  go  on  occasionally  throwing  up  a  flower,  or 
whose  foliage,  in  any  case,  is  so  very  beautiful  half 
through  the  winter  if  the  weather  keeps  mild. 

September  15th. — Everyone  who  lives  at  all  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  suburban  residences  must  be  struck 
with  the  extraordinary  sameness  of  the  shrubberies 
which  surround  these  houses  and  gardens,  especially 
those  which  are  almost  invariably  planted  along  the 
approaches.  First  of  all  you  generally  find  the  road 
waving  and  twisting — to  give,  I  suppose,  an  impression 
of  greater  length — edged  by  a  foot  or  two  of  grass,  ugly 
in  itself  and  laborious  to  keep  tidy.  The  shrubs  are 
roughly  clipped  back,  chiefly  at  the  bottom,  while  as 
they  grow  upwards  the  top  branches  out  of  reach  are 
left  to  overhang  the  road.  This  clipping,  without  any 
regard  to  the  good  of  the  shrub,  whether  evergreen  or 
deciduous,  all  treated  in  exactly  the  same  way,  makes  a 
hideous  hard  wall  of  green,  more  or  less  imperfect.  A 
still  uglier  way,  though  more  modern,  is  to  keep  the 
shrubs  apart  by  cutting  them  back  in  round,  pudding- 
shaped  nobs.  This  method  has  not  one  redeeming 
quality,  to  my  mind.  When  you  arrive  in  front  of  the 
house,  the  road  terminates  in  a  most  unmanageable 
and  impracticable  circle,  surrounding  a  green  plot  of 
grass  with  more  or  less  the  same  clipped  shrubs  all 
round.  This  plot  of  grass  is  sometimes  broken  up  with 
standard  Rose-trees,  or  small  beds  with  Geraniums,  or 
basket  beds,  all  very  inappropriate,  adding  much  to  the 
gardener's  labour,  but  not  contributing  in  any  way  to 
any  beauty  of  form  or  colour.  Instead  of  this  drive 
round  a  grass  plot  or  the  circular  bed  of  shrubs,  I  think 
most  people  would  find  their  approach  more  simple  and 


SEPTEMBER  167 

dignified  if  that  road  were  straightened  where  it  is 
possible,  and  ended  in  a  large  square  or  oblong  of  gravel 
at  right  angles  to  the  house,  sufficiently  roomy  for 
carriages  to  turn  with  ease.  The  sides  could  then  be 
planted  with  borders  or  shrubberies,  or  merely  turfed, 
according  to  the  taste  of  the  owner  and  the  space  at  his 
command.  Where  the  soil  is  light,  and  the  drive  up  long 
enough,  it  is  well  to  plant  it  with  the  wild  growth  of  the 
neighbouring  common — Box,  Holly,  Broom,  Ling,  Honey- 
suckle, Blackberries.  These  will  never  grow  into  a  wall, 
and  require  very  little  weeding  and  attention. 

Now  a  word  about  the  original  planting.  When  you 
take  a  new  house,  it  generally  happens  that  the  first 
wish  is  to  gain  privacy  by  planting  out  a  neighbour  or  a 
road.  In  light  soils  the  common  Ehododendron  grows 
nearly  as  quickly,  if  planted  in  peat,  as  the  Laurel  or  the 
Portugal  Laurel.  It  is  decidedly  prettier,  and  does  not 
suffer  in  the  same  way  in  severe  winters  from  frost.  I 
believe  that  some  people  prefer  Laurels  to  other  shrubs ; 
but  it  must  be  remembered  that  Laurels  make  root- 
growth  like  trees,  take  all  moisture  out  of  the  soil,  and 
starve  other  shrubs  near  them.  Ehododendrons,  on  the 
other  hand,  grow  very  much  on  the  surface,  are  easily 
transplanted  at  any  time  during  the  summer,  and  can  be 
increased  by  layering.  Where  screening  is  necessary, 
the  first  object  must,  of  course,  be  quick-growing  shrubs, 
and  these  three — the  common  Ehododendron,  the  Laurel, 
and  the  Portugal  Laurel — are,  we  must  admit,  the  most 
satisfactory.  They  must  be  planted  in  bold  masses,  not 
mixed,  and  thinned  out  in  a  few  years  by  taking  out 
alternate  plants.  Where  this  screening  is  not  wanted, 
choicer  shrubs  should  be  planted,  with  knowledge, 
according  to  their  growth,  their  requirements  of  aspect, 
their  size,  their  colour,  their  time  of  flowering,  their 
hardiness  or  delicacy,  and  so  on ;  all  to  be  learnt  from 


168     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

the  'English  Flower  Garden.'  A  good  deal  of  what  I 
have  said  on  the  planting  of  herbaceous  borders  applies 
here — namely,  the  necessity  of  grouping  colour  in  masses, 
and  not  speckling  the  kinds  about  at  random.  The 
amateur  must  not  be  disappointed  at  finding  that  a  good 
shrubbery,  however  well  planted,  will  not  make  much 
effect  under  five  or  six  years.  This  kind  of  planting  is 
very  much  better  understood  by  the  landscape  gardeners 
sent  out  by  nurserymen  now  than  it  was  some  years 
ago. 

If,  instead  of  a  new  house,  we  buy  a  place  that  has 
been  planted  for  some  twenty  or  thirty  years,  the  amount 
that  has  to  be  thinned  out  is  incredible.  People  in  Eng- 
land are  so  afraid  of  thinning  out ;  if  they  would  only  try 
it  with  greater  boldness,  they  would  soon  realise  how 
very  quickly  the  gaps  are  filled  up  again  by  the  improved 
strength  of  the  plants.  Short  of  destroying  protection 
from  winds,  I  should  say  it  is  hardly  possible  to  do  any 
harm  if,  where  two  plants  are  crowded  together,  the 
Laurel  is  always  sacrificed.  But  remember  that  severe 
clearing  of  shrubs  must  be  done  in  the  summer,  as  when 
delicate  shrubs  that  have  always  been  surrounded  by 
strong  growers  are  exposed  late  in  the  year,  they  are  apt 
to  be  killed  if  the  winter  is  severe.  Wherever  Hollies 
or  Yews  have  been  crowded,  they  look  very  ugly,  after 
clearing,  for  a  year  or  so ;  but  if  well  cut  back,  they  soon 
recover,  and  make  better  plants  than  young  ones  would 
do  in  many  years.  It  is  quite  superfluous  for  me  to  give 
a  catalogue  of  desirable  shrubs,  for  there  is  an  admirable 
list  of  all  the  hardy  flowering  trees  and  shrubs  in  the 
introductory  part  of  the  later  editions  of  the  eternally- 
mentioned  '  English  Flower  Garden.'  Their  cultivation 
and  propagation  are  all  given  in  the  body  of  the  work. 
Where  edging  is  necessary  to  keep  the  soil  separate  from 
the  gravel  road,  I  should  advise,  instead  of  the  grass,  flat 


SEPTEMBER  169 

pieces  of  stone,  where  it  is  possible  to  get  them,  or  bricks 
put  in  edgeways,  or  drain-tiles,  tiles,  or  flints.  There  are 
all  sorts  of  low-growing  things  which  may  be  planted 
behind  this  edge,  according  to  situation  and  aspect,  such 
as  Periwinkles,  St.  John's  Wort,  London  Pride,  and 
other  Saxifrages,  Heuchera,  Tiarella  cordifolia,  and  the 
hybrid  Megaseas  (large-leafed  Saxifrage)  in  many 
varieties.  However  many  or  few  of  these  varieties  are 
chosen,  each  sort  must  be  planted  together  in  groups, 
never  dotted  about.  Beside  the  more  picturesque  effect 
produced  by  masses,  there  is  a  practical  necessity  for 
this  :  the  stronger-growing  plants  crowd  out  the  weaker. 
Some  want  replanting  or  dividing  every  year,  others 
thrive  best  left  alone. 

What  I  have  said  above  refers  to  moderate-sized 
places,  but  I  think  I  can  especially  help  people  with 
regard  to  much  smaller  gardens,  which  I  have  so  often 
seen  ruined  by  coarse-growing  shrubs,  not  one  of  which 
should  be  admitted.  I  should  not  allow  anything 
coarser-growing  than  the  green  and  variegated  Box, 
the  golden  Privet,  Bay-tree  (which  can  be  constantly 
cut  back),  Daturas,  Viburnum  plicatum,  Irish  Yews, 
Cotoneaster  grown  as  a  bush,  Choisya  ternata,  Berberises, 
JBuddlea  globosa.  If  you  have  room,  and  can  get  the 
special  soil,  Azaleas  and  other  of  the  smaller  American 
plants  are  very  desirable.  I  may  mention  now  that  for  a 
very  small  garden  no  turf  is  advisable.  Do  not  try  to 
copy  the  Manor  House  garden,  but  rather  take  the 
cottage  garden  for  a  model,  improving  and  beautifying  it. 
Make  the  background  of  shrubs  take  the  place  of  the. 
background  of  cabbages  of  the  cottager,  and  have  only 
one  paved  path  down  the  middle,  and  a  narrow  earth 
one  round  the  outside.  If  you  have  a  little  spare  space 
on  one  side  or  at  the  back,  then  turf  that  over  and  plant 
it  with  Apple-trees,  spring  and  autumn  bulbs,  Columbines 


170     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

for  summer,  together  with  Snapdragons  and  Foxgloves — 
all  of  which  grow  well  in  grass.  The  grass  must  then 
only  be  mown  once  a  year,  in  July. 

Many  of  the  houses  built  round  the  neighbourhood  of 
London  in  the  early  part  of  the  century  were  built  close  to 
the  road,  and  have  a  ludicrous  and  pompous  approach  of 
a  drive  passing  the  front  door,  with  two  gates — one  for 
entrance  and  one  for  exit.  Surely  this  is  a  great  waste 
of  ground  with  no  proportionate  advantage.  Most  places 
of  this  kind  would  certainly  be  improved  if  the  two  gates 
were  blocked  up,  the  drive  done  away  with,  and  a  straight 
paved  or  bricked  path  made  from  the  door  to  the  road, 
with  a  shelter  of  wood,  or  even  of  corrugated  iron,  painted 
to  match  the  house,  and  creepers  planted  along  the  posts 
that  support  it.  The  space  on  either  side  of  this  path 
could  be  planted  with  low-growing  shrubs,  or  in  some 
instances  laid  with  turf. 

In  spite  of  all  the  charming  things  Mr.  Eobinson  says 
about  it,  '  wild  gardening '  is,  I  am  sure,  a  delusion  and 
a  snare.  I  live  near  one  of  the  most  beautiful  so-called 
wild  gardens  in  England,  but  it  requires  endless  care, 
and  is  always  extending  in  all  directions  in  search  of 
fresh  soil.  What  is  possible  is  to  have  the  appearance 
of  a  wild  garden  in  consequence  of  the  most  judicious 
planting,  with  consummate  knowledge  and  experience  of 
the  plants  that  will  do  well  in  the  soil  if  they  are  just  a 
little  assisted  at  the  time  of  planting.  I  saw  the  other 
day  the  most  lovely  Surrey  garden  I  know,  though  it  is 
without  any  peculiar  natural  advantages  from  the  lie  of 
the  land — a  flat  piece  of  ground  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  a 
copse  wood  of  Spanish  Chestnut,  Birch,  Holly,  and  Fir, 
Even  in  the  original  thinning  of  the  wood  the  idea  had 
been  formulated  that  certain  plants  and  trees  had  better 
be  kept  together  as  they  grew,  and  broad  open  spaces 
had  been  cut,  broken  up  with  groups  of  Holly  for 


SEPTEMBER  171 

protection.  The  paths  were  laid  with  that  short  turf 
that  grows  on  Surrey  commons,  and  only  wants  mowing 
three  or  four  times  a  year.  The  planting  had  been  done 
with  the  greatest  skill,  almost  imperceptibly  getting  more 
and  more  cared  for  and  refined  as  it  got  nearer  the 
house.  Here  I  saw,  among  many  other  things,  the 
finest  specimens  of  the  smaller  Magnolias,  Stellata  and 
Conspicua.  This  surprised  me,  as  I  thought  they 
required  heavy  soil.  The  ground  had  been  thoroughly 
well  made,  and  they  were  well  away  from  any  trees  that 
could  rob  them ;  but  in  the  lightest,  dryest  soil  they  were 
far  finer  plants  than  the  specimen  plants  in  the  grass 
lawns  at  Kew.  This  whole  garden  was  such  a  beautiful 
contrast  from  the  usual  planning  and  clearing-away  of 
all  the  natural  advantages  that  generally  surround  a 
place  which  is  being  built  or  altered.  The  land,  as  a 
rule,  is  dug  over  and  made  flat,  and  planted  in  the  usual 
horrible  shrubbery  style.  I  have  seen  such  wonderful 
natural  advantages  thrown  away,  a  copse  laid  low  to 
extend  a  lawn,  a  lovely  spring,  which  could  have  been 
turned  into  a  miniature  river,  made  into  a  circular  pond, 
with  Laurels,  Rhododendrons,  and  other  shrubs  dotted 
about,  and  twisted  gravel  paths  made  round  it.  Another 
lovely  natural  pond  I  knew,  into  which  the  rains  drained, 
though  nearly  at  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  water  was 
precious  and  scarce.  Now  it  is  cemented  all  round  with 
hard,  cold  cement,  on  which  nothing  can  grow,  and  into 
which,  in  the  wettest  of  weather,  the  water  can  no  longer 
drain.  The  pond  never  fills,  and  nothing  can  grow 
around  it.  I  know  few  things  more  depressing  than  an 
utter  want  of  feeling  for  Nature's  ways  of  playing  the 
artist,  as  she  does  at  every  turn.  I  cannot  understand 
anyone  walking  down  a  hilly  road  after  rain  without 
admiring  the  action  of  the  water  on  its  surface,  with  the 
beautiful  curves  and  turns  and  sand  islands  that  Nature 


172     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

leaves  in  playful  imitation  of  her  grandest  efforts — the 
St.  Lawrence,  for  instance,  cutting  its  way  to  the  sea 
through  its  over  two  thousand  miles  of  flat  plains  in 
North  America.  It  has  long  been  said,  '  God  sends  the 
food,  and  the  Devil  sends  the  cook.'  I  am  sure  the 
same  might  be  said  of  the  owners,  the  nurserymen,  and 
the  landscape  gardeners,  who  most  carefully,  as  a  rule, 
throw  away  every  single  natural  advantage  of  the  piece 
of  ground  they  are  laying  out,  and  believe  they  are 
'  improving ' !  What  would  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure 
would  be  to  have  the  laying-out  of  a  little  place  on  the 
side  of  a  hill  with  a  fine  view  to  the  south  and  west,  and 
the  land  sloping  away  and  gently  terraced  till  it  reached 
the  plain  at  the  bottom.  But  for  this  kind  of  garden 
clever  terracing  and  a  good  supply  of  water  are  absolutely 
necessary. 

September  20th. — Towards  the  end  of  this  month  we 
take  up  the  double  Violets — old  Neapolitan  and  Marie 
Louise  are  the  ones  we  grow — exchanging  runners  with 
friends  and  neighbours  in  the  spring,  as  it  is  not  well 
always  to  go  on  growing  from  the  same  plants,  especially 
in  a  light  soil,  as  they,  deteriorate.  In  April  the  old 
plants  are  broken  up  and  the  runners  planted  in  a  good, 
well-made  bed  of  loam  and  leaf  mould,  not  much  manure, 
under  a  wall  facing  north,  to  keep  them  cool  and  shaded 
all  the  summer ;  they  must  be  watered  if  the  weather  is 
very  dry.  At  this  time  of  year  we  make  a  deep  hole  in 
the  full  sun  in  the  kitchen  garden,  fill  this  in  with  the 
ordinary  stuff  for  making  a  hot-bed,  putting  the  frame 
over  this,  with  the  sides  a  little  sunk  to  keep  out  the  cold, 
and  fill  up  the  frame  with  good  mould.  It  is  of  supreme 
importance  that  the  Violets  should  be  planted  quite  close 
to  the  glass  of  the  frame,  touching  at  first,  as  the  mould 
always  sinks  a  little.  If  the  winter  is  cold,  it  helps  the 
Violets  very  much  to  put  some  rough  boards  a  foot  away 


SEPTEMBER  173 

from  the  outside  of  the  frame,  and  fill  up  the  space  with 
leaves  or  manure.  We  find  nitrate  of  soda  useful  for 
many  things,  and  especially  so  for  Violets.  For  Czars 
and  other  outdoor  Violets  it  is  useful  to  cut  a  ditch 
running  north  and  south,  and  plant  both  banks  with 
young  runners  of  Violets  in  April.  The  position  is  more 
natural  to  the  plants  than  on  the  flat  ground,  and  they 
are  shaded  during  part  of  each  day  ;  this  makes  a  great 
difference  to  so  many  plants.  Ophiopogon  spicatus  is  a 
small  herbaceous  plant  which  no  one  would  grow  merely 
for  its  unshowy  little  lilac  flower,  which  appears  late  in 
the  autumn,  but  it  is  well  worth  growing  in  every 
garden,  because  its  pretty  foliage  is  in  its  prime  about 
December  and  January,  and  is  most  useful  for  mixing 
with  small  greenhouse  flowers. 

September  25th. — The  plants  moved  from  the  reserve 
garden  in  July  have  done  very  well.  The  Michaelmas 
Daisies  are  unusually  good.  There  are  a  great  many 
dwarf  kinds,  very  suitable  for  small  gardens.  Little 
shapely  trees  covered  with  starry  white  or  lilac  flowers 
are,  I  suppose,  to  be  got  anywhere  now;  mine  came 
from  my  neighbour,  Mr.  Barr,  who  has  a  grand  collec- 
tion. I  can  only  repeat  what  I  said  before,  how  easily 
these  plants  can  be  divided  and  replanted  in  spring,  and 
in  large  and  roomy  places  a  Michaelmas  Daisy  garden 
can  be  made  for  the  late  months.  Boltonia  corymbosa  is 
a  charming  plant,  more  restrained  than  the  Michaelmas 
Daisy,  and  better  suited  to  small  gardens.  It  is  very 
pretty  picked,  but  its  fault  is  that  it  comes  in  rather 
early. 

The  wet  weather  has  suited  one  of  the  handsomest 
of  autumn  flowers,  the  tall  white  Pyrethrum.  Salvias  do 
well  here,  but  they  like  it  dry  and  hot,  and  are  not  so  good 
as  usual  this  year,  though  flowering  well  now.  S.  patens, 
the  dark-blue,  and  S.  splendens,  the  beautiful  scarlet  one, 


174  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

are  the  two  that  no  one  should  be  without.  They  grow 
most  easily  from  cuttings  every  year,  though  we  keep  the 
tuberous  roots  of  S.  patens,  as  we  do  Dahlias,  from  year 
to  year.  There  are  other  Salvias  quite  worth  growing, 
but  none  I  know  so  good  as  these  two.  Things  are  keep- 
ing on  well  in  the  kitchen  garden  with  the  wet  and  the 
absence  of  frost.  We  have  still  some  excellent  late-sown 
French  Beans.  As  a  rule  gardeners  stint  the  slightly 
uncertain  crop  of  French  Beans  by  not  sowing  them  in 
succession,  depending  for  the  kitchen  supply  on  the 
Scarlet  Eunners,  which  are  not  nearly  so  delicate,  and 
have  not  half  the  flavour  of  the  true  French  Beans.  Late 
Peas  completely  beat  us.  We  have  never  had  them  but 
once  ;  they  damp  off.  This  must  be,  I  should  think,  from 
the  western  aspect  of  the  garden.  I  will  try  sowing  them 
the  first  week  in  June  next  year  in  an  open  field  we  have, 
exposed  to  the  full  sun  and  wind,  to  see  if  in  that  position 
they  will  do  better. 

September  30th. — We  have  tried  for  the  first  time  just 
lately  the  baby  chickens,  which  were  a  fashionable  and 
expensive  luxury  last  season  in  London.  Eoast  them 
as  you  roast  a  quail,  or  they  can  be  boiled  and  served 
cold  with  a  covering  of  delicate  white  Mayonnaise 
sauce.  They  should  be  killed  when  five  or  six  weeks  old, 
cooked  the  same  day,  and  each  person  should  have  one. 
This  sounds  very  extravagant,  but  a  chicken  the  day  of 
its  birth  is  not  worth  much  more  than  the  price  of  an  egg, 
and  feeding  them  six  weeks  is  no  great  expense.  I  can 
strongly  recommend  anyone  who  keeps  poultry  to  try 
them,  as  we  found  them  very  delicate  and  tender. 

For  those  who  keep  pigeons  and  want  to  kill  them  off— 
which,  of  course,  must  be  done — I  do  not  advise  you  to  roast 
them  and  place  them  on  the  menu  as  '  Bordeaux  pigeons  ' 
(which  a  friend  of  mine  did,  to  the  indignation  of  her  sons), 
but  to  cook  them  as  they  do  ptarmigan  in  Norway : — 


SEPTEMBER  175 

Stew  them  quite  fresh  in  an  earthenware  stew-pan 
(with  the  livers,  &c.,  chopped  up,  inside  them)  in  good 
stock,  with  a  lot  of  vegetables  cut  up,  especially  onion  and 
a  bunch  of  herbs,  which  is  removed  before  serving.  If 
more  details  are  wanted,  the  receipt  for  jugged  hare  in 
'  Dainty  Dishes '  will  supply  them.  Serve  with  a  hot 
compote  of  Cherries,  dried  or  bottled,  or  Cranberries  or 
Bilberries  or  Barberries,  instead  of  the  usual  Red  Currant 
jelly.  If  you  have  a  great  many  pigeons,  they  could  be 
boned  and  made  into  the  French  Pie,  according  to  the 
recipe  in  '  April.' 

We  grow  a  great  many  Morella  Cherries  on  the  east  and 
north  side  of  the  wall.  These  ripen  enough  to  be  used  for 
compotes  in  July,  but  by  covering  up  the  trees  they  can  be 
kept  on  till  now,  or  even  later,  and  this  is  the  best  time  for 
making  them  into  Brandy  Cherries,  as  follows  : — Cut  the 
cherries  off  the  trees,  leaving  a  little  stalk,  and  let  them 
drop  straight  into  the  bottle.  When  the  bottle  is  half-full, 
shake  in  some  powdered  white  sugar.  Fill  up  with  more 
cherries  and  more  sugar.  When  quite  full,  pour  in  brandy, 
and  leave  it  till  next  day.  Then  fill  up  the  bottle  with 
brandy,  and  cork  it  down.  Seal  the  cork  as  in  receipt 
before  given  (see  pp.  109,  110).  The  brandy  cherries  are 
better  if  kept  for  two  years  before  eating. 

All  gardens  at  this  time  of  the  year  are  full  of 
unripe  green  Tomatoes ;  they  are  generally  left  hanging 
on  the  plants  till  the  frost  touches  them,  and  then  thrown 
away.  If  picked  and  stewed  in  a  little  butter  in  an 
earthenware  dish,  they  are  excellent.  They  have  not 
quite  the  same  flavour  as  the  ripe  ones,  but  still  they  are 
very  good,  and  some  people  think  them  nicer  than  the 
red  ones  when  cooked. 

Carrots  are  a  very  neglected  vegetable  in  England,  and 
yet  they  are  good  in  so  many  ways.  The  following  is  a 
Belgian  receipt : — Cut  the  red  part  into  thin  Julienne  strips, 


176  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

boil  for  fifteen  minutes,  drain,  then  put  them  into  a  stew- 
pan  with  a  nice  piece  of  butter,  a  little  sugar,  and  cover 
with  light  stock.  Stew  for  about  half  an  hour  ;  then  set 
over  the  fire,  and  boil  till  they  are  nicely  glazed.  Young 
Carrots  are  good  done  in  the  same  way,  but  only  take 
about  half  an  hour's  boiling.  Carrots  are  excellent  pur6e'd 
like  mashed  Turnips.  French  Beans  and  Scarlet  Eunners 
are  very  much  better  boiled  whole,  if  not  too  old,  only 
partly  drained,  and  butter  added  at  the  last ;  they  should 
be  boiled  enough  to  break  up  when  the  butter  is  stirred 
in.  To  be  served  very  hot.  For  a  second-course  dish 
cream  may  be  added  as  well  as  butter.  When  French 
Beans  are  old  and  the  seed  ripe,  they  cook  as  well  as  the 
real  white  Haricots. 

Every  year  I  grow  Eed  Cabbages,  and  cook  them  as 
recommended  in  '  DaintyDishes.'  I  also  make  large  jars 
of  pickled  Red  Cabbage,  most  useful  in  the  winter.  The 
following  is  a  German  receipt,  and  also  good : — Cut  the 
cabbage  as  for  choucroute.  For  three  or  four  large  cabbage 
heads  take  Jib.  of  butter,  put  it  into  an  earthenware 
saucepan  on  a  coal  fire.  When  melted,  add  the  cabbage, 
salt,  pepper,  and  a  little  flour  and  a  large  cupful  of  good 
broth  ;  cover  well,  and  let  it  cook  for  about  an  hour  and 
a  half,  turning  it  from  time  to  time.  During  the  last 
half -hour  add  a  glass  of  strong  red  wine. 

Some  years,  and  this  has  been  one,  the  Siberian  Crabs 
ripen  in  great  quantities.  They  look  so  lovely  on  the 
tree,  one  hates  to  pick  them ;  but  the  moment  they  are 
ripe  the  missel-thrush  clears  every  one  off,  with  the  same 
rapidity  with  which  he  leaves  us  without  a  single  berry 
on  the  Mountain  Ash  in  the  summer.  So  we  harden  our 
hearts,  and  gather  them  to  make  into  jam,  according  to 
the  following  receipt  (the  fruit  of  the  Hosa  rugosa  can  be 
utilised  in  the  same  way) : — ) 

Remove  the  stalks  and  well  wash  the  fruit,  put  this 


SEPTEMBER  177 

into  a  preserving-pan  with  just  enough  water  to  cover 
them  ;  boil  until  quite  tender ;  then  rub  through  a  brass 
wire  sieve,  and  for  every  1  Ib.  of  pulp  add  1  Ib.  of 
sugar.  After  bringing  to  the  boil,  simmer  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  and  put  into  jars.  It  will  become 
firm  as  it  cools.  It  is,  although  not  so  clear,  almost  as 
good  as  Currant  jelly. 

An  immense  improvement  to  stewed  Apples  or  Apple 
tart — if  the  crust  be  baked  apart,  as  recommended  in 
'  March  ' — is  to  put  in  four  or  five  Peach  leaves,  fresh  from 
the  trees,  and  take  them  out  before  serving ;  it  gives  the 
Apples  a  most  excellent  flavour. 


178  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


OCTOBER 

Autumn  mornings  and  robins — Italian  Daturas — The  useful  '  Myti- 
cuttah ' — Nerines — Three  Cape  greenhouse  plants — Sweet  Chest- 
nuts—Other people's  gardening  difficulties — Making  new  beds — 
The  great  Apple  time — French  White  Haricot — The  stewing  of 
chickens  and  game — Ke-planting  Violas  and  Saxifrages — 'St. 
Luke's  summer ' — Plants  for  August,  September,  and  October — 
London  gardens. 

October  1st. — Once  more  we  are  back  in  the  month  when 
the  robin  sings  so  much.  The  robins,  I  find,  are  the 
tamest  of  all  the  birds  in  a  garden ;  and  as  we  fork  over 
the  beds,  or  dig  new  ones,  they  follow  us  all  about, 
enjoying  much  the  newly  turned-up  earth.  Almost  the 
prettiest  lines  in  the  '  Christian  Year '  are  about  the  Robin 
Eedbreast,  and  were  written  by  a  friend  of  Keble's.  I 
wonder  if  the  '  Christian  Year '  is  read  now,  and  is  as  well 
known  as  it  used  to  be  ?  I  will  risk  it,  and  recall  the  two 
favourite  little  verses  : — 

TO   THE  EEDBREAST 

Unheard  in  summer's  flaring  ray, 

Pour  forth  thy  notes,  sweet  singer, 
Wooing  the  stillness  of  the  autumn  day ; 

Bid  it  a  moment  linger, 

Nor  fly 
Too  soon  from  winter's  scowling  eye. 


OCTOBER  179 

The  blackbird's  song  at  eventide 

And  hers  who  gay  ascends, 
Telling  the  heavens  far  and  wide, 

Are  sweet.    But  none  so  blends 

As  thine 
With  calm  decay  and  peace  divine. 

The  following  four  verses  are,  I  think,  very  pretty, 
and  not  likely  to  be  generally  known  (I  do  not  know  who 
wrote  them) ;  and  how  we  do,  all  of  us,  '  love  the  sweet  fall 
of  the  year ' ! — far  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  seasons 
in  England  :— 

I  wondered  this  year — for  the  autumn  was  in, 
The  acacias  were  dark  and  the  linden  leaves  thin, 
And  the  south  wind  in  coming  and  going  was  loud, 
And  odorous  and  moist,  like  the  breath  of  a  cloud — 

I  wondered  and  said,  '  Then  the  autumn  is  here. 
God  knows  how  I  love  the  sweet  fall  of  the  year ; 
But  the  feeling  of  autumn  is  not  in  my  brain ; 
My  God,  give  me  joy  in  Thine  autumn  again.' 

I  woke  in  the  morning,  and  out  in  the  air 

I  heard  the  sweet  robin  his  ditty  declare, 

And  my  passion  of  autumn  came  down  from  the  skies, 

And  I  leapt  from  my  bed  with  the  tears  in  my  eyes. 

Ah !  robin,  sweet  robin,  dost  thou  know  the  power 
That  comes  on  the  heart  with  the  fall  of  the  flower, 
The  odour  of  winds,  and  the  shredding  of  trees, 
And  the  deepening  of  colour  in  skies  and  on  seas  ? 

October  2nd. — How  beautiful  are  these  early  autumn 
mornings !  Here,  at  any  rate,  they  have  qualities  un- 
equalled all  through  the  long  year.  The  flowers  shine 
with  colour  out  of  the  grey  mists,  as  they  do  at  twilight  in 
the  long  summer  evenings,  and  the  gardens  now  are  all 
filled  with  dewy  gossamer. 

Two  new  autumn  Crocuses  have  lately  been  brought 
to  my  notice ;  one,  C.  speciosus,  is  very  pretty  standing  up 

N2 


i8o    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

straight  and  strong  on  a  border  or  rockery.  It  is  of  a  very 
blue  colour,  with  a  centre  of  lovely  stamens  and  stigma 
forming  a  bright  orange  tassel.  These  species  of  Crocus 
are  much  more  satisfactory  to  grow  in  borders  than  the  pale 
Colchicums  of  the  Swiss  meadows,  as  they  are  true  Cro- 
cuses, and  only  form  in  spring  slight  narrow  leaves  instead 
of  the  despairingly  coarse  growth  of  the  Colchicums,  which, 
dying  down  in  the  end  of  May,  make  such  an  eyesore  in 
the  borders  ;  it  seems  best  therefore  to  plant  the  latter  in 
grass.  My  double  and  single  Italian  Daturas  are  later 
this  year  than  usual,  owing  to  the  wet  weather ;  but  they 
are  covered  with  blooms  now,  and  very  sweet.  The 
double  ones  will  last  longer  in  water,  scenting  a  room, 
than  the  single  ones.  We  plant  them  out  at  the  end  of 
May ;  and  when  they  have  been  out  three  weeks  or  so,  a 
spade  is  passed  round  them  to  cut  the  roots,  and  a  ditch 
made,  which  is  filled  in  with  manure.  This  generous 
treatment  makes  the  whole  difference  in  their  flowering 
well.  I  cannot  say  whether  it  would  be  necessary  in  a 
damper  soil,  but  I  think  it  would,  as  cutting  their  roots  in 
spring  stimulates  them  to  flower  earlier,  before  the  frost 
comes.  The  old  plants  are  taken  up  and  put  into  pots, 
and  housed  for  the  winter.  This  is  such  a  happy  time  of 
the  year  for  a  gardener.  There  is  a  sense  of  power  about 
it ;  all  the  planting  and  planning  and  changing  are  done 
now.  One  is  loth  to  disturb  beds  till  the  frost  comes 
and  kills  things  down  ;  but  it  is  most  desirable  not  to  put 
off  planting,  and  to  get  everything  done  one  can  before 
any  real  cold  comes. 

I  am  gradually  clearing  away  nearly  all  the  Laurels  I 
found  on  the  place,  only  keeping  those  growing  under 
trees,  and  others  that  form  a  protection  against  the 
north-east  wind ;  but  even  those  few  that  are  left  want 
constantly  cutting  back,  as  they  soon  encroach  and  choke 
everything  else.  At  the  stores  they  sell  a  most  excellent 


OCTOBER  181 

instrument  for  pruning,  called  the  '  Myticuttah.'  There 
are  some  with  long  handles  and  some  with  short ;  they 
cut  through  quite  big  branches  like  butter,  and  are  really 
indispensable.  The  work  is  not  too  tiring  for  any  woman 
to  do  herself,  and  everyone  should  have  a  strong  pair  of 
French  nippers  as  well,  for  cutting  back  smaller  shrubs 
and  plants.  One  is  always  seeing  in  catalogues  that  this 
plant  or  that  will  do  for  the  borders  of  shrubberies.  My 
experience  is  that  no  summer  herbaceous  plants  do  in  the 
borders  of  shrubberies  at  all,  though  spring  and  autumn 
things  may  do  fairly  well ;  and  many  of  the  smaller  shrubs, 
like  Lavender  Cotton,  Eosemary,  and  Brooms  of  sorts, 
will  hold  their  own  in  front  of  larger  shrubs. 

October  4:th. — The  Nerines  (see  Johnson's  '  Gardener's 
Dictionary ')  have  flowered  well  and  been  charming  this 
year.  N.  Fothergillii  is  the  finest  colour,  but  all  are 
most  useful  autumn  bulbs,  and  last  a  long  time  in  water. 
They  are  easy  to  manage,  and,  like  many  Cape  bulbs,  flower 
before  the  leaves  are  produced.  During  the  growing  of 
the  leaves  they  must  be  carefully  attended  to  and 
watered ;  and  even,  now  and  then,  a  small  dose  of  liquid 
manure  does  them  good.  They  are  best  not  re-potted, 
except  very  rarely ;  and  as  the  leaves  die  down  they  must 
be  laid  on  their  sides  and  dried  and  well  baked  in  the 
sun,  just  like  the  Freezias,  only  not  shaken  out  and 
re-potted,  as  recommended  for  them.  The  bulbs,  too, 
should  be  planted,  like  Vallotas  or  Hyacinths,  well  on  the 
top  of  the  pot.  I  never  can  understand  why  these  very 
ornamental  bulbs  are  not  grown  in  larger  quantities 
especially  as  they  increase  and  improve,  instead  of  being 
almost  useless,  as  is  the  case  with  the  spring  bulbs  after 
forcing. 

A  Cape  family  of  small,  very  sweet-smelling  shrubs 
called  Diosma  (see  Johnson's  '  Gardener's  Dictionary ')  are 
well  worth  growing ;  in  fact,  no  greenhouse  ought  to  be 


1 82  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

without  some  of  them.  Their  charm  is  principally  in 
their  foliage  and  scent,  as  the  flowers  are  insignificant. 
They  are  easily  increased  by  cuttings  in  spring  under  a 
bell-glass.  The  growing  of  Cape  plants  is  always 
interesting.  Small  Cape  Aloes  have  charming  pink 
flowers  in  spring,  which  last  long  in  water,  not  unlike  the 
Lachenalias  (see  catalogues),  all  of  which  are  worth 
growing. 

Leonotis  leonurus  has  not  flowered  out  of  doors  with 
me  this  year  at  all,  either  in  large  pots  or  planted  out  in 
a  bed.  The  plants  were  covered  with  buds,  and  so  we 
lifted  them  at  the  end  of  September,  and  put  them  into 
the  heat,  where  they  have  flowered  well.  This  would  be 
worth  while  for  anyone  with  plenty  of  room,  as  it  is  such 
a  handsome  unusual  flower  when  picked.  Like  the 
Daturas,  they  may  be  extra  late  from  the  excessive 
dryness  of  May  and  June,  and  the  wet  afterwards.  It  is 
a  Cape  plant ;  there  it  forms  large  bushes  covered  with 
bloom.  Another  African  greenhouse  plant  well  worth 
growing  is  called  Sparmannia  africana.  The  covering 
of  the  bud  is  white,  and  shows,  when  the  flower  opens, 
between  the  four  petals,  forming  an  unusually  pretty 
star-shaped  flower  with  a  brush  of  yellow  stamens 
tipped  with  red. 

We  have  a  good  many  fine  Sweet  Chestnut  trees, 
and  they  ripen  more  or  less  well  every  year.  We  cook 
them  in  a  great  many  ways  :  boil  them  and  shell  them, 
and  warm  them  up  in  butter  or  with  a  little  stock,  as  a 
vegetable.  They  are  very  good  made  into  a  pur6e  with 
butter  and  cream,  to  eat  with  cutlets ;  or  boiled  and 
rubbed  through  a  wire  sieve,  to  serve  round  whipped 
cream  well  flavoured  with  sugar  and  vanilla.  Of  course 
the  cheap  Chestnuts  sold  in  London  can  all  be  cooked  in 
the  same  way,  but  only  the  best  Italian  Chestnuts  are 
good  for  roasting. 


OCTOBER  183 

October  8th. — I  have  been  lately  on  the  East  Coast. 
One  cannot  help  being  amused  to  find  that  gardening  is 
so  like  life,  each  one  has  his  own  difficulties.  I  was 
suggesting  to  my  friend  to  plant  her  Violets  in  leaf- 
mould,  when  she  said :  '  Why,  we  have  not  a  single 
leaf.  The  few  there  are  on  the  dwarf  trees  blow  away 
into  space.'  Oh !  what  a  fight  the  poor  plants  have 
with  the  salt-laden  winds  !  But  some  things  thrive  and 
flourish  by  the  sea  as  they  do  nowhere  else.  I  think  the 
sunk  Dutch  gardens,  before  described,  will  be  found  most 
useful  by  the  seaside. 

October  l&th. — It  is  a  very  good  plan,  when  you  want 
to  cut  a  new  bed  or  alter  the  shape  of  an  old  one,  to 
shuffle  along  the  wet  dewy  grass  on  an  October  morning 
-^and  this  leaves  a  mark  which  enables  you  very  well  to 
judge  of  size,  shape,  and  proportion — before  you  begin  to 
cut  your  beds  out.  I  am  taking  up  and  replanting — in 
the  way  before  described  of  massing  all  the  plants  of 
one  colour  together — my  long  herbaceous  borders.  These 
borders  run  right  across  what  was  once  a  fair-sized  lawn, 
and  the  principle  of  the  garden  is  to  have  it  all  beds  and 
low-growing  shrubs,  except  the  paths,  which  are  turf ; 
the  main  paths  are  left  gravelled  for  the  sake  of  dryness 
in  bad  weather.  I  only  replant  the  herbaceous  borders 
every  four  or  five  years,  mulching  them  well  every 
winter ;  and  even  then  it  is  best  only  to  replant  them 
partially,  as  certain  fine  plants  are  much  injured,  if  not 
killed,  by  moving  at  all,  and  these  plants  remain  as 
landmarks  both  as  regards  height  and  colour  for  the 
replanting  of  the  borders.  Keeping  colours  together  and 
some  empty  spaces  for  annuals  or  filling  up  in  spring  or 
summer  out  of  the  reserve  garden,  makes  it  much  easier 
to  prevent  the  borders  looking  dull  and  shabby  at  any 
time  during  the  summer  months. 

The  large  square  beds  are  planted  now  with  all  kinds 


184     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

of  spring-flowering  things,  not  formally,  but  in  broad 
patches — Wallflowers,  Forget-me-nots,  Tulips,  Silene, 
Limnanthes  douglasii  (a  Californian  annual  much  loved 
by  the  bees),  sowing  a  large  patch  of  Love-in-the-mist 
and  the  annual  Gypsophila  (for  early  flowering,  sown  in 
September),  Spanish  Iris,  Pinks  and  Carnations,  Madonna 
Lilies,  a  large  corner  of  Anemones,  and  another  of  Scabiosa 
caucasica  (see  '  English  Flower  Garden '),  both  these 
grown  originally  from  seed.  And  as  the  spring  flowers 
pass  away,  their  places  are  filled  up  from  autumn-sown 
plants,  Snapdragons,  &c.,  which  are  quite  hardy  when 
young  and  in  the  seed  bed,  but  which  get  killed  and 
injured  by  cold  winds  in  the  open.  Let  everyone  read 
what  is  said  in  the  '  English  Flower  Garden '  on  the 
giant  Saxifrages,  Megaseas.  There  are  several  varieties, 
all  worth  growing,  and  they  are  most  useful,  satisfactory 
plants  for  all  sorts  of  purposes,  not  nearly  grown  enough 
for  covering  the  ground  and  making  fine  masses  of 
low-growing  foliage.  To  keep  out  weeds  by  planting 
low-growing  and  spreading  plants  is  a  great  secret  of 
gardens  that  are  to  have  a  picturesque  appearance,  and, 
in  fact,  be  a  cultivated  wilderness  rather  than  a  tidy 
garden. 

October  15th. — This  is  the  great  Apple  time.  All  the 
windfalls  that  take  place  in  September  and  October  we 
collect,  and  either  eat  or  stew  down  into  Apple  jelly.  It 
is  very  useful  through  the  winter  in  many  ways,  and 
injured  Apples  never  keep. 

Quince  jam  and  jelly  we  also  find  good.  This  is  an 
old-fashioned  receipt : — First  boil  the  Quinces  till  soft, 
for  about  half  an  hour ;  take  off  the  outer  thin  skin. 
Cut  the  Quinces  in  half,  removing  the  core,  and  pulp 
them.  To  every  pound  of  Quince  pulp  add  half  a  pint 
of  the  water  in  which  the  Quinces  were  boiled.  Peel 
carefully  and  cut  up  some  Blenheim  Apples ;  add  half  a 


OCTOBER  185 

pound  of  Apples  to  every  pound  of  Quince  pulp,  and 
three-quarters  of  a  pound  of  sugar  to  every  pound  of 
fruit.  Boil  for  three  hours. 

We  find  the  ripe  Beans  of  the  Scarlet  Kunners  very 
good  if  well  boiled,  and  then  served  with  a  little  of  the 
water  and  a  good  bit  of  fresh  butter  stirred  in  just 
before  dishing  up.  Many  years  ago  Mr.  Bright,  in  the 
'  Lancashire  Garden,'  wrote  :  '  One  excellent  vegetable  I 
have  generally  grown  I  would  recommend  to  anyone 
who  has  space  to  spare — the  French  White  Haricot.  It 
is  not  often  seen  with  us,  though  it  is  so  very  common  in 
France.  It  is  a  species  of  French  Bean,  of  which  you 
eat  the  white  bean  itself  instead  of  slicing  up  the  pod.  I 
suspect  that,  taking  England  through,  there  are  very  few 
gardens  where  the  White  Haricot  is  found.'  This  was 
true  nearly  twenty  years  ago,  but  the  astonishing  thing 
is  that  it  is  true  still.  It  is  wonderful  how  rarely  the 
Haricot  blanc  is  to  be  seen  at  English  tables.  Is  this 
the  fault  of  the  gardener  or  the  cook  ?  I  suspect  both. 
It  is  very  disheartening  to  grow  vegetables  the  cook  does 
not  know  how  to  use.  English  housekeepers,  so  extrava- 
gant about  many  things,  are  often  curiously  economical 
on  the  subject  of  butter.  To  use  that  horrid,  fatty,  adul- 
terated stuff  called  '  kitchen  butter '  with  vegetables  is 
fatal ;  it  must  be  good  fresh  butter.  There  are  only 
two  economies  that  generally  rather  wasteful  people  try 
to  practise — one  is  in  coals,  and  the  other  is  in  butter. 
Neither  makes  much  difference  in  the  year,  and  many 
other  things  could  be  so  well  done  without.  Compared 
to  the  expense  of  wine  and  meat,  they  are  really  nothing 
at  all.  Vegetables  should  not  be  cooked  in  butter  except 
when  really  fried  ;  they  should  be  boiled,  and  drained,  and 
warmed  up,  and  cold  butter  stirred  in  just  before  serving. 
Vegetables  should  not  look  or  taste  greasy,  or  rice  either. 

In  the  autumn  those  who  keep  fowls  always  have 


1 86  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

some  to  get  rid  of  that  are  better  stewed  than  roasted. 
The  following  is  an  old  family  receipt  I  have  not  seen 
elsewhere : — 

Poulet  a  la  Turque. — Truss  a  chicken  as  for 
boiling,  put  it  in  a  deep  fricandeau-pan,  spread  it  thickly 
with  butter,  and  lay  therein  a  dozen  pieces  of  raw  ham, 
some  carrots,  onions,  parsley,  and  a  little  nutmeg,  pepper, 
and  salt ;  cover  with  a  buttered  paper.  Braize  it  for  one 
hour.  When  it  is  dished,  place  round  the  chicken  in 
groups  stewed  rice,  sultanas,  and  prunes.  Pour  a 
lightly  seasoned  curry  sauce  over  the  chicken,  and  serve 
more  sauce  in  a  sauce-boat  apart,  if  desirable — especially 
if  there  are  two  chickens. 

People  who  have  a  good  deal  of  game  get  rather  tired  of 
the  eternally  roast  pheasant  or  partridge  with  bread  sauce. 
The  following  is  a  good  receipt  to  make  a  variety  : — 

Partridge  or  Pheasant  a  la  Sierra  Morena.— 

Take  a  brace  of  partridges  properly  trussed.  Cut  into  dice 
1  inch  thick  a  little  less  than  ^  Ib.  of  bacon,  put  them 
into  the  stew-pan ;  cut  2  large  onions  in  quarters,  take 
6  whole  black  peppers,  a  little  salt,  1  bay-leaf,  a  \  gill 
of  vinegar,  1  gill  of  port  wine,  1  gill  of  water,  1  table - 
spoonful  of  salad  oil.  Put  all  these  ingredients  into  the 
stew-pan  with  half  a  sheet  of  kitchen  paper;  stew  on 
a  slow  fire  for  2  hours.  Then  take  out  the  partridges 
and  dish  them,  and  put  round  some  of  the  quarters  of 
onions  which  have  been  stewed,  pass  the  gravy  through 
a  sieve,  and  send  to  table. 

Just  now  the  greengrocers'  shops  in  town  and 
country  are  full  of  very  cheap  large  melons  brought  from 
abroad.  I  find  they  make  a  very  good  compote  if  the 
hard  outside  is  taken  off  and  the  pulp  cut  into  pieces 
the  size  of  a  plum.  Make  a  syrup  of  sugar  flavoured 
with  the  melon-peel,  spice,  bay-leaf,  and  a  little  powdered 
ginger  ;  boil  this  up,  and  pour  it  over  the  pieces  of  melon. 


OCTOBER  187 

Turnips  are  often  strong  and  hard  with  us.  This 
year  they  are  delicious,  and  we  have  had  a  very  pretty 
dish — much  appreciated — of  small  round  Turnips  boiled 
tender,  and  served  with  a  white  sauce  made  of  milk  boiled 
till  it  thickens,  into  which  has  been  stirred  a  little  butter 
and  cream. 

Carrots,  too,  are  delicious  done  in  this  way  with  the 
addition  of  a  little  parsley  and  sugar. 

The  following  is  a  good  cake  : — The  weight  in  flour 
of  four  eggs ;  beat  to  a  cream,  butter,  sugar,  rind  of  lemon 
grated,  a  few  Sultanas,  and  citron ;  then  add  the  yelk  of 
each  egg,  one  by  one ;  then  add  the  flour,  and  beat  the 
white  of  the  eggs  to  a  froth  just  before  putting  it  into  the 
oven.  Bake  for  half  an  hour  in  a  flat  tin  dish. 

October  ISth. — I  have  at  last  succeeded  in  flowering 
the  Schizostylis  coccinea.  I  am  relieved  to  see  that  in 
the  new  edition  of  the  '  English  Flower  Garden  '  this  is 
pronounced  a  great  difficulty  in  a  light  dry  soil.  It  is 
probably  owing  to  the  very  wet  autumn  we  have  had 
that  these  little  Cape  bulbs  have  done  so  well.  They 
were  planted  in  fairly  good  garden  soil,  under  the  pro- 
tection and  shade  of  a  wall  facing  east ;  so  they  did  not 
get  much  sun  except  early  in  the  year,  when  at  rest ;  and 
when  they  began  to  grow,  they  were  watered  till  the  rain 
came.  When  the  flower-spikes  began  to  colour  and 
nearly  open,  as  the  nights  were  very  cold,  I  cut  them  and 
put  them  in  water  in  a  warm  room,  and  they  bloomed 
quite  well.  Two  or  three  sticks  as  a  support,  and  mats  or 
newspaper  thrown  over  them,  help  these  late-flowering 
plants  in  prematurely  cold  weather,  which  often  lasts  only 
a  day  or  two. 

October  2&th. — This  is  about  the  time  we  replant  the 
Violas  and  Saxifrages  in  the  sunny  beds,  taking  them 
out  of  the  shady  border  in  the  reserve  garden.  London 
Pride  is  better  taken  up  and  divided  every  two  years.  As 


1 88  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Saxifrages  do  not  mind  the  dry  springs,  it  is  well  worth 
while  to  grow  a  quantity  of  London  Pride,  the  bloom  of 
which  resembles  in  colour  a  faint  pink  evening  cloud  ; 
this  is  not  only  a  satisfactory  plant  when  picked,  but  it 
will  travel  well,  and  makes  a  lovely  support  for  Iceland 
poppies  and  other  flowers. 

October  %7th. — I  have  been  taking  up  to-day  the 
Lobelia  cardinalis  and  L.  fulgens.  Cardinalis  is  the  one 
with  the  dark  leaves  and  the  handsomer  grower;  the 
other  flowers  rather  the  earlier. 

October  %8th. — With  all  the  weeks  and  weeks  of  wet 
we  have  had  this  year  we  have  waited  long  for  our  '  St. 
Luke's  Summer ' ;  and  now  it  has  come  at  last,  it  is  not 
with  its  usual  still,  lovely  warm  days.  It  has  come  fine 
and  lovely,  yes  ;  but  hand-in-hand  with  Jack  Frost,  and 
the  garden  is  cleared  for  the  present  of  nearly  every 
bloom  that  was  left. 

A  first  foggy  day  !  How  beautiful  it  is  in  the  country, 
and  what  an  endless  pleasure  when,  at  midday,  the  sun 
conquers  the  mist ! — reminding  one  of  Milton's  simile  at 
the  end  of  his  description  of  his  hero,  Satan  : — 

...    As  when  the  sun,  new  risen, 
Looks  through  the  horizontal  misty  air 
Shorn  of  his  beams. 

And  how  useful  are  days  like  these  in  the  country  !  There 
is  no  such  time  for  noticing  the  shapes  of  the  groups  of 
shrubs  and  forms  of  plants,  and  what  ought  to  be  cut 
away  and  what  left  as  it  is.  Some  low-growing  plants 
luxuriate  so  in  the  wet  autumn  days,  they  make  us  believe 
no  winter  is  coming — such  as  the  foliage  of  Pinks  and 
Carnations,  Sweet  Williams,  Golden  Feverfew,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  another  of  the  treasure  weeds  of  a  garden, 
the  common  Marigold.  Down  the  kitchen  garden  I  have 
a  patch  of  border  given  up  to  the  Marigolds,  and  they 


OCTOBER  189 

sow  themselves  over  and  over  again,  and  flower  at  all 
sorts  of  unexpected  times.  As  they  proudly  defy  early 
frosts,  they  become  really  precious  with  their  grand  glow- 
ing orange  faces.  As  is  so  often  the  case,  the  single  ones, 
with  their  varieties  of  dark  and  light  centres,  are  prettier 
than  the  double  ones,  though  both  may  be  grown  to  suit 
all  tastes,  the  colour  always  being  good.  No  garden, 
however  small,  should  be  without  this  patch  devoted  to 
Marigolds.  I  do  not  dislike  their  pungent  smell,  as 
many  do. 

The  wet  has  kept  the  leaves  long  green  and  fresh  on 
the  trees,  but  the  cold  of  last  night  brought  down  at 
once  the  great  succulent  leaves  of  some  young  Horse 
Chestnuts  not  far  from  here.  Just  about  this  garden  they 
will  not  grow,  as  they  so  dislike  the  sand.  As  I  passed 
them  to-day  I  noticed  the  leaves  all  lay  in  heaps,  freshly 
fallen  round  the  slight  stems,  on  the  green  grass,  fold  on 
fold,  in  the  low  autumn  sunshine.  Very  beautiful,  like 
Keats's  description  in  '  St.  Agnes'  Eve '  of  fair  Madeline 
unrobing  :— 

Of  all  its  wreathed  pearls  her  hair  she  frees, 
Unclasps  her  warmed  jewels  one  by  one, 
Loosens  her  fragrant  bodice  ;  by  degrees 
Her  rich  attire  creeps  rustling  to  her  knees, 
Half  hidden,  like  a  mermaid  in  seaweed. 

So  the  trees  stood  up  this  afternoon,  with  all  their  summer 
clothing  round  their  feet. 

I  always  long  at  this  time  of  the  year  to  have  been  to 
Japan  to  see  one  of  their  Chrysanthemum  shows.  I  am 
told  our  individual  flowers  are  far  finer,  but  their  method 
of  arranging  the  shows  is  so  superior  to  ours,  and  the 
effect  produced  is  naturally  much  more  lovely.  They 
arrange  them  in  bands  and  waves  of  colour,  from  the 
darkest  red  to  the  palest  pink,  fading  into  white  ;  and  up 
again  from  pale  lemon,  yellow,  and  orange  to  the  darkest 


1 9o  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

brown.  I  am  sure,  even  in  small  collections,  picked  and 
unpicked  Chrysanthemums  look  far  better  if  the  colours 
are  kept  together  in  clumps,  and  not  dotted  about  till  the 
general  effect  becomes  mud-colour,  as  English  gardeners 
always  arrange  them,  only  considering  their  height  or  the 
size  of  their  unnaturally  disbudded  blooms.  They  are, 
I  admit,  most  beautiful  and  useful  flowers.  What  should 
we  do  without  them  ?  But  owners  of  small  places,  and  I 
think  even  large  ones,  should  guard  against  too  much 
time,  attention,  and  room  being  given  to  them.  For 
putting  into  vases,  there  is  no  doubt  Chrysanthemums 
look  better  allowed  to  grow  more  naturally  and  not  so 
disbudded.  A  huge  Chrysanthemum  that  is  nearly  the 
size  of  a  plate,  though  it  may  have  won  a  prize  at  a  local 
flower-show,  looks  almost  vulgar  when  picked.  Bunches 
of  Chrysanthemums  with  their  buds  will  go  on  blooming 
a  long  time  in  water,  and  make  in  a  room  a  natural  and 
beautiful  decoration,  instead  of  painfully  reminding  one  of 
the  correctness  of  the  flower's  paper  imitations. 

A  kind  gardening  friend  living  in  Lancashire  has 
written  me  out  the  following  list  of  ornamental  shrubs 
and  flowering  plants  which,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
look  well  in  August,  September,  and  October.  I  think, 
though  I  mention  several  of  the  plants  elsewhere,  it 
useful  to  give  it  in  its  entirety,  as  many  are  of  opinion 
that  in  those  three  months  it  is  necessary  to  be  entirely 
dependent  on  bedded-out  plants  for  colour  and  beauty. 

Trees  for  autumn  leaves  and  berries : — Ash  (Moun- 
tain), Cherry,  Siberian  Crab,  Buckthorn  (sea),  Elder 
(golden),  Filbert  (purple),  Hawthorn,  Hornbeam,  Maple. 

Creepers  and  shrubs  for  autumn : — Aristolochia 
sipho,  Arbutus,  Azara  microphylla,  Herberts  thunbergi, 
Clematises  of  sorts,  Clerodendron,  Colutea,  Cotoneaster, 
Cydoniajaponica,  Dog- wood,  Eccremocarpus  scaber,  Esca- 
lonia  macrantha,  Eiwnymus  (both  European  and  latifolius), 


OCTOBER  191 

Genista,  Heath,  Hibiscus,  Honeysuckle,  Hydrangea 
paniculata,  Hypericum,  Indigofera,  Jasmine,  Laurus- 
tinus,  Lavender,  Leycesteria  formosa,  Mahonia,  Olearia 
haasti,  Pernettyas,  Lithospermum,  Pyracantha,  Prunus 
pissardii,  Rhus  laciniata,  Rosa  rugosa,  Eoses  (autumn), 
Eosemary,  Rubus  (Brambles),  Skimmia,  Snowberry,Spor- 
tium  junceum,  Tamarisk,  Virginia  Creeper,  Vines  of  sorts. 

Plants. — Achillea  ptarmica  flore  pleno,  Aconitum 
(Monkshood),  Adonis  autumnalis,  Anemone  japonica  (most 
useful,  three  shades),  Asters,  Michaelmas  Daisies  of 
sorts,  Ageratum,  Antirrhinum,  Armeria  cc&spitosa  (Sea 
Pink),  Bergamot,  Calendula,  Marigold,  Callistephus 
(China  Aster),  Campanulas  of  sorts,  Campion  (Eose), 
Cannes,  Centaurea,  Chrysanthemum,  Colchicum  (autumn 
Crocus),  Convolvulus  tricolor,  Coreopsis  lanceolata, 
Cucurbita  (Gourd),  Cuphea  zimpani  (good  annual), 
Dahlias  of  sorts,  Datura,  Dianthuses  of  sorts,  Desmodium, 
Diplopappus,  Echinops,  Erigeron,  Eryngiums  of  sorts, 
Exogonium  purga  (Jalap  plant),  Fuchsia,  Funkias  of 
sorts,  Gaillardia,  Gaultheria,  Geum  coccineum,  Gladioli 
of  sorts,  Gypsophila  paniculata,  Harpalium  rigidum, 
Helenium,  Helianthuses  of  sorts  (Sunflowers),  Heli- 
chrysum  (Everlasting),  Heliotrope,  Hollyhock,  Hyacin- 
thus  candicans,  Hypericums  of  sorts,  Ipomaa  (Convol- 
vulus), Lathyrus  (Sweet  Pea),  Lengogium  autumnale, 
Lilium  tigrinum,  Linaria,  Linum,  Lobelia  cardinalis  and 
fulgens,  Lunaria  (Honesty),  Mathiola  (Stocks  of  sorts), 
Oxalis,  Pentstemons  of  sorts,  Physalis  alJcekengi  (Winter 
Cherry),  Phytolacca  decandra,  Plumbago  carpentce, 
Polygonums  of  sorts,  Poppies  of  sorts,  Pyrethrum  uli- 
ginosum,  Reseda  (Mignonette),  Rudbeckia  neumani, 
Scabious  of  sorts,  Statice  latifolia,  Tagetes  (Marigold), 
Tansy,  Tritonia  tropceolum,  Nasturtiums  of  sorts,  Vinca, 
Periwinkle,  Viola,  Verbena,  Yucca,  Zinnia. 

It  seems  hardly  necessary  to  mention  that  many  of 


192  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

these  plants  flower  earlier  further  South  than  they  do  in 
Lancashire. 

October  %Qth. — The  French  proverb,  '  La  varie'te'  c'est 
la  vie,'  always  appeals  to  me  in  many  things,  especially 
domestic  ones.  I  know  nothing  such  a  test  of  a  good 
housekeeper  as  a  periodic  change  of  biscuits.  Every- 
body tires  of  the  best  biscuits  in  the  world,  and  the  new 
shape  and  the  old  biscuits  of  better  quality  should  ring 
the  changes.  All  through  the  summer  a  slight  surprise 
and  pleasure  comes  at  the  end  of  a  little  dinner  if  a 
buttonhole  of  sweet-smelling  flowers  and  leaves  are 
carefully  tied  up  (fine  wire  does  them  the  least  clumsily) 
and  dropped  into  the  water  in  the  finger-bowls.  Nothing 
should  be  used  but  what  is  really  sweet — Lemon- 
scented  Verbena  and  Geranium  leaves  being  the  prin- 
cipal foundation ;  and  in  summer  there  ought  always  to 
be  plenty  of  these  two  in  the  smallest  gardens. 

I  think  it  may  be  a  little  amusement  or  help  to  some 
of  you  if  I  make  a  list  of  a  few  of  my  dinner-table 
decorations  during  the  six  months  in  the  country  :— 

April. — White  Allium  with  greenhouse  Asparagus, 
red  Geranium  in  low  vases  between,  with  no  green. 
Various  spring  flowers  and  blossoms  arranged,  each 
separate,  in  small  narrow-necked  vases,  having  the  effect 
of  a  miniature  spring  garden. 

May. — A  Japanese  arrangement  of  Clematis  montana 
and  greenhouse  Asparagus.  Parrot  Tulips  in  narrow 
glasses  all  about  the  table.  Pink  ivy-leaved  Geranium, 
called  Souvenir  of  Charles  Turner,  in  a  large  flat  glass  in 
the  middle,  and  a  pretty  pink  Pelargonium  all  round. 
Oriental  Poppies,  no  green.  In  the  middle  an  arrange- 
ment of  German  Iris  of  four  or  five  different  shades. 
Perennial  herbaceous  Lupins,  white  and  blue,  with  their 
own  lovely  leaves;  they  must  never  be  allowed  to 


OCTOBER  193 

droop,  but  go  at  once  into  water.  Lilies  of  the  Valley 
and  Narcissus  poeticus.  Narcissus  poeticus  and  Stachys 
lanata. 

June. — Iceland  Poppies  (three  colours),  Cornflowers, 
and  London  Pride  ;  no  green  ;  very  pretty,  like  a  French 
woman's  bonnet.  Herbaceous  Peonies,  white  and  pale 
pink.  Lilium  thunbergianum  and  green.  Gloire  de 
Dijon  Eoses  floating  in  water  in  flat  vases,  and  green- 
house Maidenhair  Fern.  Mrs.  Sinkins  Pink  and  Gypso- 
phila  elegans.  Gypsophila  and  pink  Shirley  Poppies. 
Yellow  Snapdragons  and  Gypsophila ;  this  was  pretty 
and  uncommon.  Mixed  Roses.  White  Madonna  Lilies 
with  various  white  flowers,  and  pale  green. 

July. — Yellow  French  Daisy  and  Gypsophila  panicu- 
lata.  Small  vases  with  blue  Campanula  turbinata.  Calceo- 
laria amplexicaule.  Gypsophila  paniculata,  Nasturtiums, 
and  leaves  of  variegated  ground  Ivy.  Clematis  (Travellers' 
Joy)  trained  up  a  Bamboo  in  the  middle,  wedged. 
Mixed  Carnations  and  Gypsophila  paniculata.  Carnation 
(Lady  Agnes)  with  own  green,  or  from  Mrs.  Sinkins. 

August. — White  Sweet  Pea  and  Gypsophila  paniculata. 
Branches  of  the  Everlasting  Pea  laid  on  the  tablecloth. 
Salpiglossis  and  Gypsophila  paniculata.  Sweet  Geranium 
leaves  and  pink  Ivy-leaved  Geranium  (Souvenir  of  Charles 
Turner). 

September. — Bed  Virginia  Creeper  leaves  and 
Geranium  (Henry  Jacoby).  Single  Helianthemums  and 
Carrot  leaves  of  various  shades.  Bed  Virginia  Creeper 
leaves,  Nasturtiums,  and  a  large  tray  in  the  middle  piled 
up  with  fruit — apples,  pears,  peaches,  grapes,  &c. 

October. — Single  Dahlias  and  Venetian  Sumach. 
Greenhouse  Chrysanthemums. 

October  30th. — It  is  an  excellent  plan,  if  you  have  a 
very  sunny  window  that  you  are  glad  to  have  shaded  in 

o 


194    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

the  summer  and  not  in  winter,  to  put  two  bars  of  wood 
like  a  bracket  out  from  the  wall  as  a  support  for  one  long 
bar;  or  if  your  window  is  high,  and  so  requires  more 
width  to  shade  it,  have  two,  or  even  three,  bars  across 
the  top.  You  plant  on  one  side  a  Vine  or  a  Wistaria, 
and  train  it  over  this  kind  of  wooden  eyebrow.  If  you 
have  a  Wistaria,  the  flowers  hang  through  in  spring ;  if 
you  have  a  Vine,  the  little  bunches  of  grapes  hang 
charmingly  along  the  top  of  your  window  in  autumn.  In 
both  cases  the  branches  become  quite  bare  at  the  first 
frost,  and  so  your  room  is  not  shaded  at  a  wrong  time 
of  year.  I  think  this  method  of  growing  certain  plants 
usually  grown  against  walls  will  please  many  plant- 
loving  people. 

I  have  been  so  often  asked  about  London  gardens, 
and  in  two  cases  have  taken  real  and  active  interest  in 
them — one  a  small  square  piece  of  ground  behind  an  old 
house  in  Westminster;  and  another  much  larger,  very 
near  the  Addison  Koad  Station.  In  all  cases  in  and  near 
London  I  say,  emphatically,  '  Avoid  evergreens.'  They  get 
black  and  miserable,  and  look  horrid,  even  in  winter; 
though,  if  syringed  and  pruned,  I  think  both  Aucuba  and 
Box,  and  especially  the  latter,  might  be  kept  clean  and 
flourishing,  and  even  prove  useful  for  picking.  Ivy,  too, 
on  a  wall  facing  north  is  often  preferable  to  the  bare 
wall.  I  have  said  a  great  deal  in  August  against 
growing  Virginia  Creeper  and  Ampelopsis  veitchii, 
because  of  its  spoiling  and  hiding  beautiful  old  houses ; 
but  in  London,  and  where  we  want  to  hide,  they  are  the 
most  useful  and,  indeed,  invaluable  Creepers  that  can  be 
planted.  They  have  every  merit,  are  quick  growers  in 
any  soil,  graceful  if  pruned  and  cared  for,  and  yet  doing 
well  if  left  alone.  Their  growth  in  the  spring  and  early 
summer  is  full  of  beauty,  and  in  London  they  hasten  to 
lose  their  leaves  without  colouring  them. 


OCTOBER  195 

On  the  back  of  a  house  my  parents  built  in  '41,  in 
Rutland  Gate,  was  planted,  I  think,  the  first  Virginia 
Creeper  I  ever  remember  in  London.  In  those  days 
beyond  this  house  it  was  all  fields  and  nursery  gardens. 
London  was  not  then  quite  so  black  as  it  is  now — not  in 
that  part,  at  any  rate.  I  well  remember  the  beauty  and 
glory  of  this  Virginia  Creeper.  It  was  never  pruned, 
and  hung  from  top  to  bottom  of  the  house  in  lovely 
masses  of  falling  foliage.  Virginia  Creepers,  like  many 
other  things,  vary  a  little  in  their  growths ;  one  that 
has  its  leaves  out  early  in  the  spring  is  the  best  for 
London.  The  Ampelopsis  is  prettier  for  being  very 
much  starved,  as  the  leaves  keep  smaller,  and  less  like 
the  redundant  growth  at  Boston,  which  I  so  condemned 
before.  But  on  the  whole,  even  for  London,  I  prefer  the 
growth  of  the  common  Virginia  Creeper. 

Autumn  effects  need  never  be  thought  of  in  London 
at  all.  When  people  come  back  to  the  West  End,  after 
the  holidays,  it  is  nearly  winter.  The  poor  leaves,  choked 
and  smothered  in  soot,  have  fallen  sadly  and  greyly  to 
the  ground,  leaving  all  their  autumn  glory  to  their  more 
fortunate  country  brethren ;  and  all  can  be  swept  clean 
and  tidy  before  anyone  comes  back.  Amongst  deciduous 
shrubs  all  the  ordinary  common  ones  do  very  well, 
and  only  want  attention  and  pruning,  and  pulling-off  of 
suckers,  as  the  same  plants  require  in  the  country. 
Privets,  being  half-deciduous,  do  very  well  also.  Bamboos 
are  useless,  as  they  are  never  in  full  beauty,  even  in  th& 
country,  till  the  autumn  and  winter.  In  all  small  gardens 
it  is  my  advice  to  avoid  turf,  and  especially  in  London, 
It  never  looks  well,  and  is  expensive  and  troublesome  to 
maintain,  which  is  one  reason  the  day-gardener  likes  it. 
Have  as  wide  a  border  all  round  the  wall  as  you  can 
afford,  and  some  red  gravel  or  a  bricked  or  tiled  square  in 
the  middle  of  the  garden  to  sit  on. 

o2 


196     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

Have  a  sunk  tub,  in  the  sun,  under  a  tap,  from  which 
to  fill  a  watering-pot,  to  water  more  delicate  things  ;  and 
do  not  hose  too  much,  especially  if  your  soil  is  damp, 
except  in  very  warm  weather.  On  the  walls  have  Hibes 
sanguineum  and  Forsythias,  as  they  flower  very  early. 
Vines  and  Fig-trees,  white  Jasmine,  and  Jasminum  nudi- 
florum,  all  do  well  in  London.  Wherever  there  is  room 
on  the  walls  facing  south  put  the  deciduous  Magnolias 
(see  '  English  Flower  Garden  ').  The  Magnolia  grandi- 
jlora  has  such  polished  and  very  shiny  leaves  ;  it  grows 
very  well  near  London.  I  remember  some  very  fine 
plants  of  the  same  that  used  to  grow  in  gardens  at 
Walham  Green  and  Fulham,  where  in  my  youth  people 
gave  what  are  now  called  garden-parties  and  used  then 
to  be  called  '  Breakfasts ' — why,  I  do  not  know,  as  they 
never  began  till  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Perhaps 
the  French  refugees  brought  in  the  fashion  of  such  enter- 
tainments, full  of  the  recollections  of  the  dejeune  champetre 
of  Louis  XV.  and  Louis  XVI.  and  their  Courts. 

I  know  a  Magnolia  in  Addison  Eoad — I  think  it  must 
be  a  M.  conspicua — that,  though  crowded  up  and  appa- 
rently neglected,  flowers  most  beautifully  every  spring, 
nearly  as  well  as  the  famous  one  which  is  such  a  marked 
ornament  every  year  in  the  Champs  Elys6es.  A  Forsythia 
at  the  corner  of  Marlborough  House  garden  in  the  early 
spring  has  often  excited  my  admiration.  I  quote  these 
examples  to  show  that  plants  will  grow  and  flower  in 
London  still,  if  well  chosen  and  cared  for. 

For  the  borders,  I  recommend  no  edging ;  it  is  ex- 
pensive and  useless.  The  gravel  is  enough ;  and  it  is, 
I  think,  prettier  to  disguise  the  fact  of  a  line  than  to 
accentuate  it.  Plant  what  you  have  in  bold  clumps — 
the  tall  plants,  of  course,  at  the  back ;  but  rather  in  waves 
of  height,  with  bays  of  the  front  low-growing  things, 
running  back  towards  and  under  the  wall.  Anything 


OCTOBER  197 

looks  better  than  a  row  of  plants  all  the  same,  or  nearly 
the  same,  height.  There  are  the  line  of  the  wall  and  the 
line  of  the  path.  Your  object  must  be,  not  to  repeat  these, 
but  to  work  into  your  border  that  which  makes  either 
beautiful  form  or  beautiful  colour,  or  both  at  the  same 
time.  Do  not  repeat  your  clumps  over  and  over  again. 
For  instance,  if  you  have  a  good  number  of  German  Irises 
(many  of  which  grow  admirably  in  London),  put  them  into 
two  large  groups — one  facing  east  or  south  (which  is  the 
best)  and  the  other  facing  north  or  west.  In  this  way 
you  may  hope  for  a  succession,  an  object  that  anyone 
who  plants  for  flowering  reasons  ought  never  to  have  out 
of  their  mind.  Spanish  Irises  would,  I  believe,  do  very 
well  in  a  London  garden  if  planted  every  year  in  a  sunny 
corner  in  October.  They  are  not  expensive  (see  cata- 
logues). Buy  no  double  or  even  single  Dutch  Hyacinths  ; 
they  are  not  worth  it.  They  last  a  very  short  time,  are 
often  injured  by  the  weather,  and  can  be  seen  in  the 
Parks  in  mournful  and  irritating  regularity  and  perfection. 
Buy  Snowdrops,  Crocuses,  Scillas  (see  l  English  Flower 
Garden  '),  especially  S.  hispanica,  blue,  white  and  pink 
(though  the  pink  one  is  rather  the  least  pretty),  S.  bifolia, 
S,  sibirica,  S.  italica,  and  our  own  common  Blue-bells 
(Wood  Hyacinths),  S.  nutans.  I  think  the  only  real 
Hyacinth  worth  trying  would  be  the  early  Eoman.  The 
only  seed  I  would  recommend  sowing  in  place  is 
Mignonette,  and  that  would  want  watering.  For  all  other 
annuals,  and  many  other  things  that  are  not  annuals,  I 
would  pocket  my  gardening  pride  and  act  in  the  follow- 
ing manner : — In  April,  and  again  in  May,  make  out  from 
the  books  a  short  or  long  list  of  plants,  those  common 
things  that  you  would  like  to  have,  which  flower  early. 
Send  or  go  to  Covent  Garden,  taking  a  basket  with  you, 
and  buy  the  seedlings  there  two  or  three  inches  high ; 
bring  them  back,  plant  them  at  once,  and  water  them 


198     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY   GARDEN 

and  watch  them.  Plants  are  just  like  children ;  it  is  a 
keen,  watchful,  ever-attentive,  thoughtful  eye  they  require 
— not,  figuratively  speaking,  pulling  up  by  the  roots  to  see 
how  they  are  getting  on.  If  you  cannot  go  to  Covent 
Garden,  go  to  the  nearest  nurseryman,  and  try  and  get 
there  what  you  want.  I  would  buy  Daisies,  Forget-me- 
nots,  Violas,  Pansies,  common  Marigolds,  Nasturtiums, 
blue  Lobelias,  Geraniums,  Sweet  Verbenas — in  fact, 
nearly  all  the  things  you  see.  Only  make  notes  year  by 
year  as  to  what  does  best,  and  try  to  learn  for  yourself 
what  likes  full  sun  and  what  likes  half-shade,  and  what 
can  be  planted  in  April  and  what  not  till  the  end  of  May. 
I  believe  in  this  way  a  very  bright  London  garden  might 
be  seen — during  May,  June,  and  July,  at  any  rate — at  a 
very  small  expense. 

Sowing  your  own  seeds  takes  too  long,  and  is  too  un- 
certain without  a  hot-bed.  Do  not  put  off  planting  all 
the  hardy  plants  too  late.  London  is  warmer  than  the 
country,  and  your  great  object  ought  to  be  to  get  things 
early.  All  Pinks,  Saxifrages  (especially  London  Pride), 
Ferns,  and  all  the  hardy  perennials  you  like  to  try,  ought 
to  be  planted  in  October,  at  the  same  time  as  the  bulbs. 
The  Campanulas  named  in  June  would  do  well  in  small 
London  gardens  ;  the  shade  of  the  walls  and  the  moisture 
would  suit  them  excellently.  Perhaps  they  might  want 
water,  if  the  weather  was  very  dry,  to  help  them  to  flower. 

There  are  often  a  few  cold  nights  at  the  end  of  May, 
when  the  icebergs  are  floating  South — those  wonderful, 
beautiful  ice-mountains,  once  to  have  seen,  never  to  be 
forgotten ;  they  have  eight  times  their  height  below  the 
water,  and  this  keeps  them  straight  as  they  float  onwards, 
glittering  in  the  sunshine.  Beautiful  as  they  are  to  those 
who  see  them,  they  are  cruel  destroyers  of  our  poor  un- 
certain spring  weather.  A  very  good  plan  on  cold  nights 
is  to  throw  over  your  plants  some  newspapers,  held  down 


OCTOBER  199 

by  stones ;  or  if  you  cover  up  some  wicker  or  wire  hen- 
coops with  muslin,  they  will  keep  out  five  or  six  degrees 
of  frost.  These  protections  can  be  removed  in  the  morn- 
ing. All  spring- watering  should  be  done  in  the  morning, 
not  in  the  evening ;  and  it  is  better  to  add  a  very  little 
warm  water  than  to  use  very  cold  water  out  of  pipes. 
The  handsomest,  easiest-grown,  hardiest,  most  useful 
plant  for  London  gardens  is  the  Polygonum  cuspidatum 
(there  is  a  lovely  drawing  of  it,  by  Mr.  Alfred  Parsons,  in 
Mr.  Robinson's  '  Wild  Garden ') ;  but  its  whole  beauty  and 
utility,  as  I  have  said  before,  depends  on  taking  up  the 
suckers  as  they  appear  in  early  spring.  Without  that,  the 
plant  is  a  useless  weed  ;  but  treated  as  I  recommend,  I  am 
sure  no  one  can  be  disappointed  with  this  strong-growing 
herbaceous  plant.  The  larger-leaved  kind,  P.  sacchali- 
nensis,  is  very  good  also,  if  you  have  room  for  both, 
but  it  has  not  quite  such  a  beautiful  up-standing  and 
yet  graceful  growth. 

I  think  the  Bocconia  cordata  would  also  do  in  London 
gardens,  as  it  is  a  very  handsome  herbaceous  plant,  and 
comes  to  perfection  early,  throwing  up  its  feathery  blooms 
in  July.  None  of  the  Primrose  family  are  any  good  in 
London ;  the  leaves  are  too  vv^oolly. 

Do  not  allow  the  beds  to  be  dug  over  or  pulled 
about  in  the  autumn ;  it  is  a  very  bad  plan.  Consciously 
or  unconsciously  the  man  digs  everything  up,  and  I 
believe  many  a  gardener  thinks  it  is  good  for  trade ! 

No  Koses  are  worth  trying  in  or  near  London,  though 
a  few  are  growing  in  Holland  House  Gardens  that  look 
fairly  healthy ;  but  that  is  a  very  large  open  space,  and 
they  are  old-established  bushes,  which  have  been  there  a 
long  time.  I  think  that  most  beautiful  shrub,  Hydrangea 
paniculata,  might  do  well;  it  is  best  cut  down  every 
March,  and  is  such  a  beautiful  thing.  It  likes  a  strong  soil, 
but  flowers  rather  late  for  those  who  leave  London  early. 


200  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Lilies  of  the  Valley  do  very  well  in  London  if  planted  under 
a  wall ;  facing  east  is  the  best  position,  and  they  should 
be  left  alone.  Most  of  the  hardy  Lilies  would  thrive  if 
planted  in  October,  especially  the  scarlet  Lily,  Lilium  chal- 
cedonicum,  which  flowers  early.  One  reason  why  London 
gardens  do  so  badly  very  often  is  that  they  are  neglected 
in  September  and  October.  Wallflowers  are  best  planted 
in  September;  and  I  am  afraid  many  beginners  fail  to 
realise  what  are  annuals  and  what  are  not,  and  the 
greater  the  difficulties  the  greater  the  care  necessary.  I 
saw  once  in  a  review  of  an  American  book  on  gardening 
that  the  late  springs  and  the  early  heat  in  parts  of 
America  made  the  growing  of  many  of  the  larger  annuals 
a  great  difficulty,  as  they  could  not  be  sown  out  of  doors 
early  enough.  The  reviewer  quoted  the  author  of  the 
book's  statement  of  how  she  ingeniously  devised  the  follow- 
ing method  : — Determined  not  to  be  beaten,  she  grew  the 
single  seeds  in  empty  egg-shells  stuck  into  boxes  of  sand ; 
when  the  time  came  for  planting,  and  the  little  seed  had 
grown,  the  shell  was  just  broken  and  the  whole  thing 
dropped  into  the  ground  where  it  was  to  grow.  In  this 
way  she  got  Poppies,  &c.,  to  flourish — plants  that  will  not 
bear  moving  at  all,  as  a  general  rule.  I  mention  this  as 
an  example  of  the  whole  spirit  of  gardening,  a  patient 
conquering  of  difficulties.  Biding  on  the  crest  of  the 
wave  that  tries  to  submerge  us  is  one  of  the  phases  of 
our  existence  that  makes  life  most  satisfactory  and  worth 
living,  and  it  is  the  secret  of  all  progress.  If  gardening 
were  easy,  even  under  favourable  circumstances,  we 
should  none  of  us  care  to  do  it. 

It  must  strike  everyone  when  driving  through  the 
streets  of  London  in  the  summer  how  elaborately  ugly  is 
the  planting  of  many  of  the  window-boxes.  What  seems 
to  me  to  look  best  is  to  keep  the  flowers  as  distinct  and  as 
unmixed  as  possible.  To  set  out  plants  that  are  not  really 


OCTOBER  201 

hardy  before  the  end  of  May  is  waste  of  money,  and  gives 
me  a  feeling  of  unloving  ignorance  of  plants  which  is  as  the 
murdering  of  the  innocents  to  those  who  are  fond  of 
them.  A  pretty  mixture  is  the  yellow  French  Marguerite 
with  two  or  three — according  to  the  size  of  the  box — little 
upright  Cryptomeria  japonicas,  either  in  the  middle  or  at 
each  end  of  the  box,  according  to  the  shape  of  the  window. 
White  French  Daisies  do  just  as  well,  if  preferred. 
Calceolarias  and  white  Daisies  are  also  pretty.  I  have 
lived  so  little  in  London  in  the  summer  of  late  years  that 
I  am  more  prepared  to  criticise  than  to  suggest.  One 
day  I  saw  outside  a  dining-room  window  some  large, 
heavy,  oblong  Japanese  flower-pots  planted  with  single 
plants,  and  they  looked  very  well,  as  one  was  able  to  see 
the  growth  of  the  plants.  These  Japanese  pots  are  glazed, 
and  much  thicker  than  the  ordinary  flower-pot,  and  thus 
lessen  evaporation  and  the  risk  of  being  blown  over.  No 
plants  can  possibly  succeed  on  balconies  or  windows  in 
ordinary  English  flower-pots  unless  they  are  sunk  in 
boxes  or  other  pots  as  a  protection  from  the  sun  and 
wind. 


202    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


NOVEMBER 

Letting  in  the  autumn  sun — Jerusalem  Artichokes — Hardy  Bamboos 
— Polygonum  cuspidatum — Autumn  flowers — Small  Beech-trees 
— Last  day  in  the  country — Some  gardening  books  of  this 
century. 

November  2nd. — I  recommend  housekeepers  to  take 
down  about  the  end  of  October  all  muslin  curtains,  silk 
blinds,  &c.,  which  shade  the  windows,  only  keeping  such 
curtains  as  are  drawn  at  night  for  warmth.  The  differ- 
ence it  makes  in  the  appearance  of  the  room  is  very 
pleasant.  In  all  manner  of  ways  possible — in  our  house 
and  gardens,  in  our  cooking  and  dress — the  adapting  our- 
selves as  well  as  we  can  to  the  changing  seasons  is 
sensible  and  desirable;  it  gives  point  and  variety  to 
existence,  especially  for  those  who  live  most  of  the  year 
in  one  place.  In  the  case  of  the  south  windows  in  our 
sitting-rooms  the  pouring-in  of  the  low  winter  sun  is 
delightful — '  le  soleil  de  Saint  Martin,'  as  the  French  play 
had  it,  comparing  it  to  the  love  of  an  old  man,  'qui 
6chauffe  et  ne  brule  pas.'  It  is  only  just  now  we  enjoy 
this  very  low  sun.  It  is  a  great  delight  to  watch  the 
changing  year,  and  how  differently  the  sun  affects  the 
house  and  garden.  In  summer  he  shines  high  above  our 
heads,  beating  and  burning  on  the  roof ;  and  in  winter  he 
bows  and  smiles  at  us  just  above  the  tree-tops. 

November  8th. — To-day  we  have  had  our  first  dish 
of  preserved  French  Beans  out  of  the  salt  pan,  before 


NOVEMBER  203 

-described ;  and  they  are  really  delicious,  just  as  if  they 
had  been  freshly  picked  in  August. 

I  suppose  everybody  knows  that  Jerusalem  Artichokes 
-are  much  better  if  left  in  the  ground  and  only  dug  up  as 
they  are  wanted,  though  before  hard  frost  they  must  be 
dug  up  and  housed.  This  vegetable  is  amongst  the  most 
useful  ones  we  have  in  the  winter,  as  it  can  be  cooked  in 
such  a  great  number  of  ways.  It  is  one  of  the  things 
much  improved  by  growing  from  fresh  seed,  and  not 
planting  the  old  tubers  over  and  over  again.  The 
Artichokes  can  be  made  into  soup,  can  be  pureVd  like 
Turnips,  or  fried  in  thin  slices  like  Potato  chips.  '  Dainty 
Dishes  '  has  one  receipt  for  cooking  them.  The  only  way 
in  which  they  are  not  very  good  is  the  ordinary  English 
way — plain  boiled,  with  a  floury  butter  sauce.  The  best 
way  of  all  is  au  gratin,  like  the  Maccaroni-cheese  in'  Dainty 
Dishes  ' ;  only  they  require  more  sauce.  Everything  au 
gratin  is  very  much  improved  by  using  half  Parmesan, 
half  Gruyere,  and  a  very  small  piece  of  shallot.  I  used 
to  think  this  plant,  from  its  name  '  Jerusalem  '  being 
derived  from  the  Italian  Girasole,  with  its  curious  English 
amplification  into  '  Palestine  Soup,'  was  perhaps  the  only 
Sunflower  (Helianthus)  that  had  not  come  from  America, 
and  might  have  been  brought  here  by  the  Crusaders ;  but 
all  this  is  not  the  fact.  It  does  come  from  America ;  and 
a  curious  confirmation  of  the  same  is  that  the  French 
name  is  Topinambour,  a  corruption  of  Topinambout,  a 
native  tribe  in  the  Brazils,  whence  the  plant  comes. 

November  6th. — The  last  few  days  there  has  been 
quite  a  hard  frost,  and  last  night  our  garden  thermometer 
registered  ten  degrees.  This  means,  of  course,  death  to 
everything  not  quite  hardy ;  and  even  the  hardiest  hang 
their  heads,  and  flop  their  leaves  and  look  dying,  though 
we  know  it  is  only  affectation,  and  that  a  steady  rain, 
bearing  in  every  drop  heat  from  the  tropics,  will  revive 


204     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

many  things  again.  I  confess  I  like  these  sudden  deaths 
in  Nature.  When  the  time  comes,  it  is  better  that  things 
should  go,  than  linger  on,  as.they  do  in  very  mild  autumns. 
Never  since  I  have  lived  here  have  the  berries  of  the 
Pyracanthus  and  Holly  been  so  fine;  the  latter  are 
covered  with  berries.  In  old  days  they  used  to  say  it 
meant  a  cold  winter  and  a  providential  providing  of  food 
for  the  birds.  Now  we  say  it  means  a  fine  spring  and  a 
wet  autumn,  which  is  just  what  we  have  had  this  year ; 
but  a  wet  autumn  may  mean  a  cold  winter. 

November  9th. — One  or  two  hardy  Bamboos  should 
be  in  all  gardens,  because  of  their  appearance  just  now, 
apart  from  all  other  reasons.  The  '  English  Flower 
Garden '  gives  the  best  kinds,  which  must  be  selected 
according  to  the  size  of  the  garden  and  the  situation  in 
which  they  are  to  be  placed.  They  by  no  means  require 
to  be  planted  in  wet  places — in  fact,  I  imagine  it  is  that 
which  kills  them  in  winter — but  a  few  cans  of  water 
daily  in  dry  weather,  at  their  quick-growing  time  of  May 
and  June,  helps  them  very  much  to  throw  off  sooner  that 
shabby  appearance  in  spring  which  is  one  of  their  draw- 
backs. Another  drawback  is  that  they  live  such  a  short 
time  in  water  after  they  are  picked.  The  Japanese  have 
many  devices  for  preserving  them  ;  the  simplest  of  these 
is  burning  their  ends  in  the  fire  before  putting  them  into 
water.  This  answers  with  many  flowers.  In  a  small 
garden,  Bamboos  look  much  better  for  thinning  out  every 
year ;  and  the  long  canes  make  very  useful,  tidy  sticks  for 
pot-plants.  At  this  time  of  year,  when  all  else  is  dying 
or  dead,  they  are  healthfully  and  luxuriantly  green.  I 
have  found  by  experience  that,  if  Bamboos  are  really 
injured  by  frost,  it  is  best  to  cut  them  down  entirely  the 
following  spring.  It  requires  some  courage  to  cut  out 
the  tall,  well-grown  canes ;  but,  once  nipped  by  frost,  they 
do  not  recover,  and  they  make  better  plants  the  following 
year  if  cut  right  back. 


NOVEMBER  205 

It  is  well  worth  while  for  anyone  walking  round  the 
kitchen  garden  in  November  to  pick  the  few  remaining 
frost-bitten  pods  of  the  Scarlet  Eunners.  When  gathered 
and  opened,  what  a  treat  of  colour  they  display  ! — recalling 
wet  shells  on  the  seashore,  mottled  and  marked,  and  of 
a  rich  deep  purple,  and  no  two  alike.  I  grow  Scarlet 
Runners  singly,  or  two  or  three  together,  between  the 
Apple-trees ;  and  it  is  a  good  plan,  as  they  bear  much 
better  than  when  planted  in  rows  in  the  open,  and  look 
much  prettier.  They  creep  up  into  the  branches  of  the 
Apple-trees ;  the  growth  is  so  light  it  does  no  harm, 
while  it  protects  the  late  pods  from  frost. 

The  dear,  bare  branches  of  my  favourite  Polygonum 
cuspidatum,  here  planted  in  a  hole  in  the  grass,  look 
lovely  now  at  this  time  of  the  year,  red  in  the  sunshine 
against  a  background  of  evergreens.  I  have  now  on  the 
table  before  me — cold  and  grey  as  it  is  out  of  doors — 
Marigolds,  Tea-rose  buds  (that  are  opening  in  the  room, 
and  looking  so  pretty  with  a  shoot  of  their  own  brown 
leaves),  Neapolitan  Violets,  some  branches  of  small  white 
Michaelmas  Daisies,  and  of  ^course  Chrysanthemums — 
those  autumn  friends  we  are  half  tired  of,  and  yet  we 
could  so  little  do  without.  Another  striking  feature  in 
the  garden  just  now  are  some  small  Beech- trees,  quite 
small,  grown  and  cut  back  as  shrubs  are  pruned.  In  a 
soil  where  Beech-trees  do  not  grow  naturally,  it  is  well 
worth  while  to  have  them  in  this  way,  because  of  their 
peculiarity  of  retaining  on  their  branches  the  red  dry 
leaves  more  than  half  through  the  winter,  causing  a 
distinct  point  of  colour  against  the  evergreen  shrubs. 

November  14£/&. — This  is  my  last  day  in  the  country, 
calm  and  warm.  I  eat  my  luncheon  by  the  open  window. 
All  Nature  is  very,  very  still,  the  silence  broken  now  and 
then  by  the  chirp  of  a  bird  and  the  distant  crow  of  a  cock 
in  some  neighbour's  yard ;  the  sky  is  pearly  and  grey,  and 
soft  light-grey  mists  hang  about,  just  enough  to  show  up 


206  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

the  glory  of  some  autumn  bush  or  leaf.  In  front  of  the 
window  there  are  some  little  delicate  leaves  of  one  of  the 
shrubby  Spiraeas,  planted  on  purpose  to  shine,  coral  and 
gold,  late  in  the  year.  It  does  not  matter  about  its  being 
planted  in  a  choice  bed,  as  its  growth  is  not  coarse ;  if  it 
looks  a  little  dried  up  in  summer,  it  is  not  noticed  when 
all  the  flowers  are  about.  The  dear  little  black  and  white 
pigeons — '  Nuns,'  they  are  called — with  outspread  wings, 
are  flying  down  to  feed.  The  flight  of  a  pigeon  is  so 
beautiful ;  no  wonder  Dante  immortalised  it  in  the  famous 
lines  in  the  Paolo  and  Francesca  episode.  That  old  cynic, 
Voltaire,  used  to  say  that  Dante's  fame  would  always 
grow,  because  he  is  so  little  read. 

As  I  sit  and  watch,  the  low  yellow  winter  sun  bursts 
out,  illuminating  all  things.  To-morrow  he  will  not 
shine  for  me,  as  I  shall  be  in  that  horrid  dark  London. 

One  other  morbid  little  poem,  appropriate  to  this  time 
of  year,  I  think  I  must  give  you,  for  it  used  to  be  a  great 
favourite  of  mine  in  past  days,  before  the  cheerfulness  of 
old  age  came  upon  me.  If  I  ever  knew  who  was  the 
author,  I  have  forgotten  it  now  :— 

LA   MELANCOLIE 

Que  me  dis-tu,  morne  vent  d'automne — 

Miserable  vent  ? 
Toi  dont  la  chanson  douce  et  monotone 

Jadis  charmait  tant  ? 

Tu  me  dis,  helas !  qu'amour  et  jeunesse 

M'ont  fait  leurs  adieux  .  .  . 
Et  du  fond  de  Tame  un  flot  de  tristesse 

Me  d6borde  aux  yeux ! 

Tu  me  dis,  trop  bien,  ou  le  sentier  mene 

Que  1'espoir  a  fui  .  .  . 
Et  ton  chant  piteux,  traduisant  ma  peine, 

Triple  mon  ennui. 


NOVEMBER  207 

Ce  mal  qui  courbait  sur  mon  foyer  vide 

Mon  front  desole — 
Ta  complainte,  0  vent,  et  ton  souffle  humide 

Me  1'ont  revele ; 

C'est  le  mal  des  ans— c'est  la  nostalgic 

Des  printemps  perdus : 
Et  ton  vieux  refrain  n'est  qu'une  elegie 

Sur  ce  qui  n'est  plus  1 

Modern  Gardening-  Books. — In  the  month  of  March 
I  finished  noticing  the  books  in  my  possession  up  to  the 
end  of  the  last  century.  I  begin  again  with  this  century, 
and  shall  carry  them  down  to  the  present  day. 

1803.  (An  XI.)  'Le  Jardin  de  la  Malmaison.'  By 
Ventenat.  Illustrated  by  P.  J.  Bedoute.  In  two  folio 
volumes.  This  is  one  of  my  great  possessions — a  hand- 
some book,  sumptuously  produced,  as  was  likely  to  be 
at  the  time,  dedicated  as  it  is  to  Madame  Bonaparte,  just 
at  the  height  of  her  power  and  influence.  The  implied 
flattery  in  the  dedication  to  her  is  as  large  and  magnificent 
as  the  paper  is  beautiful  and  the  printing  perfect.  On 
the  title-page  is  a  little  motto  in'  Latin,  saying  that  if  the 
praises  of  the  woods  are  to  be  sung,  the  woods  should  be 
worthy  of  the  Consul.  The  book  is  an  obvious  imitation 
of  Jacquin's  '  Flora  Schoenbrunnensis.'  The  illustrations 
are,  I  think,  less  artistic  and  certainly  less  strong  than 
Jacquin's.  They  are  not  hand-coloured,  like  his,  but  are 
very  fine  examples  of  the  best  and  most  delicate  (then 
newly  discovered)  method  of  colour-printing.  The  reason 
why  Kedoute^s  work  is  artistically  inferior  to  Jacquin's 
is,  that  in  his  delicate  rendering  of  the  flowering  branch 
he  always  puts  it  exactly  in  the  centre  of  the  page,  without 
reference  to  its  size  or  growth.  The  plates  are  at  the 
end  of  each  volume,  and  the  descriptive  text,  which  is  in 
French,  at  the  beginning.  Poor  Josephine  !  She  was  so 
fond  of  her  gardens  ;  and  I  am  told  there  is  still  an  order 


208  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

preserved  in  our  Admiralty  that,  when  French  ships  were 
captured  in  the  war,  any  plants  or  seeds  that  were  on 
board  for  Madame  Bonaparte  were  to  be  expedited.  That 
was  a  gracious  order ;  and  gardening  in  those  days  meant 
so  much  more  than  it  does  now.  A  flower  blooming  then 
was  an  interesting  event  all  over  Europe,  and  the  gentle 
perfume  of  it  rose  and  permeated  through  the  smoke  and 
din  of  the  Napoleonic  wars.  Nevertheless,  there  always 
have  been,  and  there  always  will  be,  those  who  would 
rather  sing  the  old  French  rhyme  : 

Jardiner  ne  m'amuse  guere, 
Moi  je  voudrais  faire  la  guerre. 

Redoute,  the  artist,  in  this  fine  Napoleonic  book  plays 
only  a  secondary  part  to  Ventenat : 

1805.  (An  XIV.)  '  La  Botanique  de  J.  J.  Rousseau, 
ornee  de  soixante-cinq  planches  d'apres  les  peintures  de 
P.  J.  Redoute.'  Apparently  Redoute  brought  out  this 
book  to  please  himself,  for  it  is  a  reprint  of  Rousseau's 
1  Elementary  Letters  on  Botany  to  a  Lady.'  It  has 
sixty-five  such  beautiful  illustrative  plates,  exquisitely 
drawn  and  colour-printed  like  the  last.  Were  ever  such 
beautiful  things  done  for  those  who  wished  to  adapt 
natural  flowers  to  chintzes,  needlework,  or  wall-papers  ? 
French  artists,  no  matter  of  what  school  or  of  what 
period,  always  excel  all  others  in  the  beauty  of  their 
actual  draughtsmanship.  Among  these  illustrations  there 
is  a  very  fine  old-fashioned  dark-red  single  Chrys- 
anthemum called  As  tre  de  Chine :  I  have  never  seen  any- 
thing in  the  least  like  it  growing.  The  Daisy  and  the 
Dandelion,  too — were  they  ever  more  beautifully  or  more 
sympathetically  rendered  ?  Everything  done  is  in  honour 
of  botany,  nothing  as  a  representation  of  a  flower  worth 
growing.  The  text  is  in  French. 

My  other  Redoute  book  is  a  very  charming  one,  though 
my  large  octavo  edition  is,  alas  !  not  the  best,  which  is  a 


NOVEMBER  209 

folio  in  three  volumes.  The  title-page  states  that  the 
drawings  have  been  reduced,  re-engraved,  and  coloured 
under  the  eye  of  Monsieur  Eedoute,  1824.  He  had  now 
become  famous.  The  title ,  is  '  Les  Koses,  par  P.  J. 
Eedoute,  avec  le  texte  par  C.  A.  Thorry  ' — the  order  of  the 
artist  and  author  being  just  reversed  from  that  in  the  work 
of  his  early  days,  '  Le  Jardin  de  la  Malmaison.'  The  book 
begins  with  the  following  charming  sentence : — '  Les 
poetes  ont  fonde  dans  I'opinion  les  seules  monarchies 
h^reditaires  que  le  temps  ait  respectees :  le  lion  est 
toujours  le  roi  des  animaux,  1'aigle  le  monarque  des  airs, 
et  la  rose  la  reine  des  fleurs.  Les  droits  des  deux 
premiers  6tablis  sur  la  force  et  maintenus  par  elle 
avaient  en  eux-memes  la  raison  suffisante  de  leur  dure'e ; 
la  souverainete1  de  la  rose,  moins  violemment  reconnue 
et  plus  librement  consentie,  a  quelque  chose  de  plus 
flatteur  pour  le  trone  et  de  plus  honorable  pour  les 
fondateurs.' 

Anyone  who  cares  about  Eoses  ought  to  try  and  see 
this  book  at  the  Botanical  Library  of  the  Natural  History 
Museum  at  South  Kensington,  as  it  is  very  full  of  sug- 
gestions. Had  I  a  soil  that  suitfed  Eoses,  and  room  to 
grow  them  in,  I  should  try  and  make  a  collection  of  the 
wild  Eoses  of  the  world  and  the  roses  figured  by  Eedout6 
in  1824,  many  of  which  I  have  never  seen.  The  Banksia 
Eose,  which  now  covers  the  walls  all  along  the  Eiviera,  is- 
here  called  Le  Hosier  de  Lady  Banks  (wife  of  the  botanist 
Sir  Joseph  Banks).  There  are  Moss  Eoses  and  China 
Eoses,  and  every  form  and  kind  of  Eglantine  ;  but  nothing 
larger  or  more  double  than  the  Cabbage  Eose.  The 
Malmaison  Eose,  though  called  after  Josephine's  garden, 
must  have  been  a  much  later  introduction.  In  fact,  in 
1824  there  were  no  Eoses  and  no  Strawberries  in  our  sense 
of  the  word.  Even  what  is  now  called  the  Old  Maiden's 
Blush  is  not  in  the  book.  The  E.  lucida,  which  I  grow 

p 


210     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

successfully  in  Surrey  (for  it  is  easy  of  cultivation,  and  has 
a  lovely  foliage),  the  York  and  Lancaster,  and  the  Centi- 
folia  are  all  in  this  book.  Even  my  small  edition  I  look 
upon  as  one  of  my  chief  treasures ;  it  is  bound  in  an 
old-fashioned  bright-green  leather.  I  suppose  few  people 
have  seen  this  book,  otherwise  I  cannot  imagine  how 
anyone  has  ever  had  the  courage  to  publish  the  modern 
illustrated  Rose  books  with  pictures  that  look  so  coarse 
and  vulgar  in  comparison  with  these  delicate  coloured 
prints. 

1804.  'Exotic  Botany,  by  James  Edward  Smith, 
President  of  the  Linnean  Society ;  figures  by  James 
Sowerby.  Two  volumes  in  one.'  This  book  is,  of  course, 
an  English  one,  but  on  the  title-page  is  the  following 
quotation  from  Rousseau's  seventh  '  Promenade.'  I  copy 
it,  as  it  expresses  the  feeling  of  the  times  :— 

*  II  y  a  dans  la  botanique  un  charme  qu'on  ne  sent 
que  dans  le  plein  calme  des  passions,  mais  qui  sumt  seul 
alors  pour  rendre  la  vie  heureuse  et  douce :  mais  sitot 
qu'on  y  mele  un  motif  d'inter6t  ou  de  vanit6  ....  tout 
ce  doux  charme  s'evanouit.  On  ne  voit  plus  dans  les 
plantes  que  des  instruments  de  nos  passions,  on  ne 
trouve  plus  aucun  vrai  plaisir  dans  leur  etude.  .  .  .  On 
ne  s'occupe  que  de  systemes  et  de  methodes ;  matiere 
eternelle  de  dispute,  qui  ne  fait  pas  connaltre  une  plante 
de  plus  ....  de  la  les  haines,  les  jalousies/  &c. 

I  wonder  if  it  will  strike  anyone  on  reading  this  that 
the  sins  of  the  botanist  have  been  inherited  in  some  degree 
by  the  modern  gardener  ? 

The  book  is  dedicated  to  William  Roscoe  of  Liver- 
pool. Rare  and  interesting  plants  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  are  figured  here,  and  many  of  them  are  uncommon 
to  this  day.  Some  are  familiar  garden  plants,  such  as 
Rosemary-leaved  Lavender  Cotton,  which,  the  author 
tells  us,  '  Clusius  says  he  met  with  on  the  sloping  sides 


NOVEMBER 


211 


of  some  hills  near  Narbonne,  in  the  year  1552,  when 
travelling  with  his  friend,  the  celebrated  Bondeletius, 
from  Carcassonne  to  Montpellier.  It  is  said  to  grow  in 
other  parts  of  the  South  of  France,  as  well  as  in  Spain, 
chiefly  on  open  hills  near  the  coast.  It  bears  our 
-climate  in  the  open  border,  flowering,  though  very  rarely, 
in  August.  We  receive  it  from  the  Botanic  Garden  of 
Liverpool  by  favour  of  Mr.  John  Shepherd.' 

Such  a  passage,  one  of  many,  seems  to  stretch  a 
hand  across  the  centuries,  and  explains  the  kind  of 
charm  these  old  books  have  for  those  who  like  them. 
The  plates  are  carefully  drawn  and  well  coloured.  This 
book  contains  many  plants  from  New  Holland  which 
must  then  have  been  rare ;  some  are  noted  as  grown  in 
gardens  at  Paddington,  some  as  never  having  flowered 
in  Europe  at  all.  It  is  certainly  an  interesting  book. 

1810.  '  The  Gardener's  Kalendar,'  by  Walter  Nicol. 
This  is  the  earliest  of  my  gardening  directories,  and  it 
is  not  illustrated.  It  is  an  excellent  little  book,  but  one 
learns  nothing  from  it  except  that  nearly  all  we  know 
now  was  known  then. 

1810.  'A  Small  Family  Herbal,'  by  E.  J.  Thornton, 
M.D.,  interesting  as  it  claims  to  be  illustrated  by  Thomas 
Bewick.  The  little  woodcuts  of  plants  and  flowers  are 
charming.  The  arrangement  of  the  book  is  sensible  and 
clear,  and  has,  at  the  end  of  the  medical  part,  some 
receipts  for  currant  wine,  elder  wine,  &c. 

1812.  'A  Family  Herbal,'  by  Sir  John  Hill,  M.D. 
The  illustrations  are  coarse,  and  not  well  drawn,  though 
hand-painted.  It  is  a  typical  book  of  the  day,  when  there 
were  so  many  of  the  same  kind. 

1812.  'The  New  Botanic  Garden.  Illustrated  with 
133  plants,  engraved  by  Sansom  from  the  original 
pictures,  and  coloured  with  the  greatest  exactness  from 
drawings  by  Sydenham  Edwards.'  There  is  considerable 

p2 


212  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

boldness  and  character  about  these  drawings  of  ordinary 
garden  plants  and  flowers,  but  the  colour  has  changed 
on  several  of  them.  Like  other  books  of  the  period,  the 
flowers  are  illustrated  and  described  in  an  absolutely 
chance  and  desultory  way ;  the  only  exception  is  when 
the  authors  confine  themselves  to  one  family,  like 
Andrews'  '  Heathery/  or  Jacquin's  '  Oxalises.'  What  is 
striking  in  all  these  books  is  the  beautiful  paper  and 
printing.  The  drawing  and  painting  are  just  beginning  to 
decline. 

1814  (about).  'The  Botanic  Garden,'  by  B.  Maund. 
I  think  this  the  most  useful,  from  a  modern  gardener's 
point  of  view,  of  all  the  old  books  in  my  possession. 
Nothing  approaches  it  for  instructiveness  in  herbaceous 
plants  till  we  get  to  Eobinson's  '  English  Flower  Garden.' 
The  complete  set,  consisting  of  sixteen  volumes,  is  dim- 
cult  to  find,  though  odd  volumes  or  broken  sets  are  often 
advertised.  This  lovely  *  Botanic  Garden  '  is  arranged 
on  an  entirely  new  system.  It  is  purely  gardening  and 
botany,  no  medicine  at  all.  The  volumes  are  quarto, 
and  the  illustrated  page  is  divided  into  four.  Each 
square  is  filled  with  an  illustration  from  a  flowering 
plant  every  one  of  which — from  the  tallest  Hollyhocks 
to  the  smallest  Alpine — is  drawn  exactly  the  same  size, 
to  fill  the  space.  This,  to  my  mind,  is  a  grave  fault, 
continued  to  this  day  in  flower  illustration. 

In  some  of  the  old  Dutch  books  which  I  have  seen, 
but,  alas  !  do  not  possess,  they  had  a  plan  of  drawing  the 
flowering  branch,  life  size,  in  the  middle  of  the  page,  with 
a  small  drawing  in  the  corner  representing  the  growth 
of  the  whole  plant.  This  is  a  sensible  and  instructive 
method.  I  should  like  all  flower  illustration  to  be 
exactly  the  size  of  a  fine  specimen  in  Nature,  quite 
regardless  of  filling  or  non-filling  the  page.  To  give  a 
correct  impression  of  the  plant  illustrated  is  very  much 


NOVEMBER  213 

more  important  than  attempting  to  make  uniform  or 
even  artistic  pictures. 

But  to  return  to  Maund.  The  letterpress  follows  the 
illustrations,  one  page  to  each  plant,  and  the  following 
characteristics  are  given  above  the  drawing  in  every 
case : — (1)  Name  of  country  the  plant  comes  from,  (2) 
height,  (3)  when  it  flowers,  (4)  duration  of  plant,  (5)  when 
first  cultivated.  This  gives,  at  a  glance,  a  comprehensive 
idea  of  the  plant.  There  are  constant  allusions  through 
the  book  to  Parkinson,  Gerarde,  and  other  old  botanists. 
The  earlier  plates  are  far  superior,  better  drawn,  and 
more  delicately  coloured  than  those  in  the  later  volumes. 
In  the  twenty-five  years  which  were  covered  by  the  serial 
issue  of  this  publication  the  decline  of  flower-painting 
marched  apace. 

1814.  'Flore  Medicale.  Decrite  par  F.  P.  Chaume- 

ton,  Docteur  en  Me"decine.  Peinte  par  Madame  E.  P 

et  par  P.  J.  F.  Turpin.'  This  is  a  lovely  book  in  eight 
octavo  volumes.  The  illustrations  are  most  delicate  and 
fine,  and  in  the  Eedout6  manner.  He  influenced  all 
flower-painting  at  that  time  in  Paris,  professional  as  well 
as  amateur.  Flower-painting  only  ceased  to  be  good 
when  it  was  no  longer  considered  the  handmaid  of 
botany  and  medicine,  which  necessitated  quite  a  different 
order  of  merit  and  precision  from  what  was  required  for 
mere  flower  illustration  for  gardening  purposes.  One  of 
the  useful  and  uncommon  idiosyncrasies  of  this  book  is 
that  at  the  top  of  each  page  describing  the  plate  the 
name  of  the  plant  is  given  in  seven  European  languages. 
The  curative  properties  of  various  medicines  are  named, 
but  there  are,  alas  !  no  cooking  receipts.  This  is  what 
is  said  about  Cardoons,  the  vegetable  so  little  used  in 
England  because  the  cooks  do  not  know  how  to  dress 
it:— 

'  Le  Garden   Cynara  cardunculus   dont  les   feuilles 


214    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

prodigieusement  amples,  deviennent,  en  blanchissant, 
une  de  nos  meilleures  plantes  potageres.  La  culture 
en  a  fait  des  varietes  et  des  sous-varietes,  dont  deux 
de'pouille'es  d'e"pines  sont  plus  faciles  a  manier,  cependant 
on  pre^fere  au  cardon  d'Espagne,  tout  inerme  qu'il  est,  le 
cardon  de  Tours,  arme  d'epines  longues  et  tres  aigues. 
Celui-ce  est  moins  sujet  a  monter;  ses  cotes  sont  plus 
grosses,  plus  tendres,  et  beaucoup  plus  dedicates.  Le 
rofesseur  Gilibert  a  connu  un  me'decin  qui  depuis  dix 
ans  prenait  tous  les  matins  un  verre  de  de*coction  des 
feuilles  vertes  de  cardon,  avec  la  persuasion  intime  que 
ce  remede  1'avait  gueri  d'un  engorgement  au  foie,  et  en 
pre"venait  le  retour.'  It  is  curious  how,  in  these  old 
books,  the  faith  seems  always  to  have  been  in  what  was 
put  into  the  water,  not  in  the  good  tumblerful  of  any  hot 
liquid — plain  water  being  perhaps  the  best  of  all,  though 
no  doubt  in  any  decoction  of  vegetable  there  would  be 
small  quantities  of  soda.  The  book  is  full  of  all  kinds 
of  interesting  information,  and  there  are  constant  allu- 
sions to  the  use  of  vegetables  in  all  sorts  of  illnesses, 
especially  gout  and  stone.  There  is  an  article  in  the 
*  Edinburgh  Eeview  '  of  November  1810  on  the  uses  of 
vegetarianism  for  the  cure  of  stone.  It  seems  now  as  if 
we  were  once  more  tending  towards  the  system  of  Aber- 
nethy,  who  lived  in  the  early  part  of  the  century.  The 
recommendation  he  gave  to  his  patients  was  :  '  Live  on 
sixpence  a  day,  and  earn  it/ 

1824.  'The  Universal  Herbal/  by  Thomas  Greene. 
This  is  an  ambitious  book  in  two  large  fat  volumes.  It 
professes  to  contain  an  account  of  all  the  known  plants 
in  the  world,  adapted  to  the  use  of  the  farmer,  the  gar- 
dener, the  husbandman,  the  botanist,  the  florist,  and 
country  housekeepers  in  general.  Mine  is  the  second 
edition,  revised  and  improved.  The  frontispiece  is 
coloured  and  very  funny ;  it  is  called  '  Wisdom  and 


NOVEMBER  215 

Activity  collecting  the  various  treasures  of  the  Vegetable 
Kingdom.'  Wisdom  is  represented  by  an  old  woman  in 
the  background  under  a  hedge.  In  the  foreground  on 
the  left  is  a  youthful  Flora,  and  on  the  right  Activity  is 
represented  by  a  middle-aged  husbandman,  who  does  not 
look  active  at  all.  On  the  title-page  is  an  extraordinary 
collection  of  young  women  without  too  many  clothes, 
which  I  should  have  thought  represented  the  elements 
or  the  seasons,  only  there  are  five  of  them.  Surrounding 
these  is  a  wreath  of  vegetation  and  flowers,  held  up  at 
the  top  by  fat  winged  Loves.  The  book  is  alphabetically 
arranged,  and  every  now  and  then  there  is  a  page  with 
four  coloured  flowers  on  it,  only  moderately  executed. 
Compared  to  those  gone  before,  these  are  not  worth 
noticing,  but  they  are  not  so  bad  as  those  about  to  come. 
This  book  certainly  contains  an  extraordinary  amount  of 
detailed  information  and  instruction  ;  its  comprehensive- 
ness may  be  imagined  when  I  note  that  sixty-seven 
Oxalises  are  described  in  separate  paragraphs.  It  is 
exceptionally  interesting  for  the  botanical  account  it 
gives  of  garden  plants  and  flowers.  The  medical  pro- 
perties of  many  plants  which  hitherto  have  been  spoken 
of  as  certain  panaceas  are  here  alluded  to  in  a  com- 
paratively doubtful  tone.  The  treatise  on  gardening,  at 
the  end  of  the  second  volume,  is  very  amusing ;  and  the 
prints  enable  me  to  realise  the  date  and  origin  of  our 
characteristic  villa  plantations,  approaches,  drives,  &c. 
There  is  an  illustrated  page  of  ornamental  flower-stands, 
which,  ugly  as  they  are,  I  think  might  be  improved  and 
adapted  so  as  to  be  rather  pretty  and  useful  in  some 
greenhouses  and  windows. 

The  lists  of  plants,  bulbs,  and  seeds  are  useful  even 
now,  and  would  have  been  exceedingly  so  to  me  some 
years  ago.  The  way  these  books  fell  out  of  knowledge 
and  fashion  is  quite  extraordinary.  The  botany  they 


7i 6  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

contain  was  constantly  superseded  by  newer  books ; 
faith  in  herbalism  died  out ;  and  the  beautiful  herbaceous 
plants  were  swept  away  from  our  gardens.  I  suppose 
I  did  not  look  out  for  these  books,  knowing  nothing  of 
them ;  but  I  never  saw  one  of  them  till  I  began  to  be 
interested  in  them  and  to  collect  them  five  or  six  years 
ago. 

1825.  '  The  Manse  Garden/  which  has  long  been 
out  of  print,  I  have.  Canon  Ellacombe  praises  it  most 
warmly  and  justly  at  the  end  of  his  '  Gloucestershire 
Garden,'  published  last  year.  It  has  no  name  and  no 
date,  but  he  says  it  was  written  by  the  Rev.  N.  Patter- 
son, at  that  time — nearly  seventy  years  ago — Minister  of 
Galashiels  and  afterwards  a  leading  member  of  the 
Scotch  Free  Kirk.  '  It  is  altogether,'  Canon  Ellacombe 
adds,  '  a  delightful  book,  full  of  quaint  sentences,  shrewd 
good-sense,  and  quiet  humour ;  and  the  cultural  directions 
are  admirable.'  This  praise  I  entirely  endorse.  The 
chapter  at  the  end,  called  '  The  Minister's  Boy/  is 
especially  human,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word.  It 
is  a  modest,  non-old-fashioned-looking  little  book,  and  is, 
I  expect,  to  be  found  hidden  away  in  many  an  old  Scotch 
house. 

1825-1830.  'Cistinese:  the  Natural  Order  of  Eock 
Eose/  by  Eobert  Sweet.  This,  once  more,  is  a  book 
entirely  confined  to  one  family,  the  extent  of  which  is 
such  a  surprise  to  most  of  us.  Who  would  have  expected 
that  there  are  thirty-five  Cistuses,  seventy-eight  Heli- 
anthemums,  and  about  a  hundred  Eock  Eoses?  The 
drawings  are  good ;  but  the  colouring,  though  still 
by  hand,  compares  very  badly  with  Eedoute's  lovely 
Eose  book.  Cistuses  are  such  charming  plants,  opening 
their  papery  blooms  in  the  sunlight ;  they  do  very  well 
in  the  light  Surrey  soil,  but  very  few  of  them  are  really 
hardy.  Cistus  laurifolius  is  hardy  with  me,  and  C. 


NOVEMBER  217 

tforentinus  only  dies  in  very  severe  winters.  Mr. 
Eobinson  gives  a  list  of  them,  and  they  are  such  pretty 
little  shrubs  that  they  are  well  worth  any  trouble.  The 
mixed  Helianthemums  (Sun  Eoses)  are  best  raised  from 
seed,  and  it  is  very  easy  to  keep  any  specially  good  ones 
from  cuttings  made  in  the  summer,  when  they  strike 
freely.  I  take  potfuls  of  cuttings  of  the  shrubby  kinds 
every  year  as  well,  in  case  of  accidents.  There  are  several 
other  books  by  Mr.  Sweet,  all  of  which  must  be  well 
worth  having. 

1826.  '  The  Gardener's  Magazine,'  conducted  by  J.  C. 
Loudon.  This  publication,  of  which  I  have  seventeen 
volumes,  was,  according  to  his  biographer,  Mr.  London's 
own  favourite,  into  which  he  put  the  best  of  his  ideas 
and  work.  It  is  only  illustrated  with  small  wood-cuts  in 
order  to  explain  the  text,  but  is  crammed  with  interesting 
information,  well-arranged  lists  of  plants,  and  descrip- 
tions of  country  houses,  the  culture  of  fruit  and  flowers, 
green-houses,  and  stoves.  I  repeat,  the  especial  use  of 
these  older  books  is  to  help  us  to  the  knowledge  and 
cultivation  of  non-hardy  exotics — a  subject  which  the 
great  authority  of  the  day,  Mr.  Eobinson,  does  not  touch 
upon.  They,  however,  require  to  be  read  with  under- 
standing, as  in  Mr.  Loudon's  day  gardeners  were  much 
more  afraid  than  they  are  now  of  treating  plants  as 
hardy — the  risk  of  losing  them  being  then  too  great, 
whereas  now  it  is  only  considered  as  being  good  for 
trade.  In  nearly  all  private  gardens  of  the  present  day 
it  is  almost  forgotten  that  plants  can  be  easily  repro- 
duced by  layers,  cuttings,  and  seeds.  Modern  gardening 
shares  in  the  common  fault  of  our  generation,  which  is  so 
prone  to  waste  and  to  buy,  rather  than  to  produce. 

Mr.  Loudon  seems  to  have  been  an  upright,  hard- 
working and  educated  man,  who  was  rather  forced  by 
ill-health  into  the  life  which  he  took  up.  There  is  an 


2i8     POT-POURRI    FROM  A  SURREY    GARDEN 

interesting  portrait  and  biography  of  him  in  a  little  book 
of  his,  published  after  his  death,  called  '  Self-Instruction  for 
Young  Gardeners.'  As  is  frequently  the  case  with  men 
whose  whole  mind  is  taken  up  with  some  absorbing 
intellectual  occupation,  he  neglected  his  own  money 
affairs,  and  at  the  time  of  his  last  illness  he  had  to 
make  an  appeal  to  his  many  friends  and  admirers  for 
funds  to  enable  him  to  publish  his  great  work,  which 
has  not  yet  been  superseded,  though  it  calls  for  re-editingr 
the  '  Arboretum  Botanicum,'  of  which  more  hereafter. 
Mr.  Loudon  died  on  December  14,  1843,  before  he  heard 
of  the  kind  way  in  which  his  friends  had  come  forward 
and  responded  to  the  appeal.  His  wife  states  that  he 
died  on  the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  Washington,  thus 
linking  us  on  by  an  allusion  to  older  times,  which  seem 
to  us  so  very  long  ago. 

The  story  of  Mrs.  London's  marriage  is  rather  interest- 
ing. As  a  girl  (1825)  she  wrote  what  she  herself  describes 
as  '  a  strange,  weird  novel,'  called  '  The  Mummy  '- 
perhaps  the  first  of  the  prophetic  stories  that  have  been 
so  common  in  my  time,  the  scene  being  laid  in  the  twenty- 
second  century.  Mr.  Loudon  was  struck  by  a  review  of 
this  book,  and  read  it.  It  made  so  deep  an  impression 
on  him  that  two  or  three  years  afterwards  he  expressed 
to  a  friend  his  great  wish  to  know  the  author,  whom  he 
believed  to  be  a  man.  An  introduction  was  brought 
about,  which  in  a  short  time  resulted  in  their  marriage. 
They  lived  in  a  charming  house  at  Bayswater,  which  was 
then  quite  in  the  country,  and  '  The  Gardener's  Magazine ' 
alone  brought  him  in  7501.  a  year.  Soon  after  their 
marriage  they  saw  at  Chester,  in  1831,  the  first  number 
of  Paxton's  '  Horticultural  Eegister,'  the  earliest  rival  to 
*  The  Gardener's  Magazine,'  which  gradually  declined 
from  that  time,  and  was  given  up  immediately  after  Mr. 
Loudon's  death.  The  impetus  given  by  Mr.  Loudon's 


NOVEMBER  219- 

books  and  periodicals  to  landscape  gardening  and  green- 
house cultivation,  for  pleasure  and  beauty  alone,  and  for 
the  ornamentation  of  the  houses  of  the  wealthy,  must  have 
been  immense.  But  from  that  time  the  books  assumed 
the  deteriorated  character  from  which  they  are  only  now 
beginning  to  emerge.  Cheapness  became  a  desirable 
object — necessary  for  the  propagation  of  the  instruc- 
tion. This  change  greatly  enhances  the  interest  and 
value  of  the  older  books.  The  illustrations  only  served 
to  elucidate  the  text,  and  in  the  case  of  coloured  plates 
several  plants  were  often  crowded  into  one  page  for  the 
sake  of  cheapness  in  reproduction.  The  gardener  was 
no  longer  a  botanist  and  an  artist,  but  employed  inferior 
draughtsmen  to  illustrate  his  instructions. 

The  original  debt  on  the  '  Arboretum,'  published  just 
after  Mr.  Loudon's  death,  was  10,000/.,  which  seems  a 
very  large  sum,  considering  how  poor  the  illustrations 
are.  It  is  a  book  of  immense  study,  great  interest,  and 
valuable  instruction.  The  work  is  in  eight  volumes — four 
letterpress  and  four  illustrations. 

1842.  '  Ladies'  Magazine  of  Gardening,'  by  Mrs. 
Loudon,  published  just  before  Mr.  Loudon's  death,  has 
some  rather  good  illustrations  of  flowers,  some  certainly 
not  commonly  grown  now.  What  she  calls  the  Golden- 
haired  Anemone  is  quite  unknown  to  me.  The  illustra- 
tions for  gardens  and  rockwork  are  elaborately  descriptive 
of  all  which  should  be  avoided  ;  but  in  every  book  of  the 
period  there  is  much  for  the  student  to  learn.  Failing 
income  induced  Mrs.  Loudon,  no  doubt  helped  by  her 
early  efforts  in  literature,  to  publish  books  on  gardening 
for  the  use  of  amateurs.  When  she  and  her  little 
daughter  were  left  very  badly  off,  her  efforts  assumed  a 
more  ambitious  line. 

The  first  edition  of  '  The  Lady's  Companion,'  which  I 
have,  was  published  by  William  Smith  in  1841.  It  is  a 


220  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

delightful  little  book,  alphabetically  arranged,  with  a  few 
useful  illustrations,  light  to  hold,  and  beautifully  printed. 
It  always  mentions  the  country  from  which  the  plant  or 
flower  comes,  and  it  often  suggests,  most  usefully,  the 
soil  or  locality  where  the  plants  do  best  in  England. 
This  is  a  point  too  often  omitted  in  modern  gardening 
papers.  The  book  was  afterwards  enlarged.  It  went 
through  several  editions,  and  had  many  imitators.  Mrs. 
Loudon's  earlier  books  are  often  to  be  picked  up,  very 
cheap,  at  secondhand  shops,  and  I  strongly  recommend 
all  ladies  interested  in  gardening  to  buy  them  whenever 
they  can  lay  their  hands  on  them,  either  for  themselves 
or  to  give  away.  It  is  not  that  they  are  really  better  for 
the  advanced  student  than  the  modern  books,  but  that  they 
are  more  simple.  They  begin  more  from  the  beginning, 
they  teach  more  what  amateurs  require,  and  they  are  not 
complicated  with  the  immense  variety  which  in  modern 
books  and  catalogues  drives  unfortunate  young  gardeners 
to  despair.  A  good  deal  of  this  applies  as  well  to  the  many 
imitators  and  humble  pupils  of  the  Loudons'  school  who 
published  between  1840  and  1850.  One  book  I  have  is 
called  '  Every  Lady  her  own  Flower  Gardener,'  by  Louisa 
Johnson  (seventh  edition  !),  published  by  W.  S.  Orr,  1845. 
Any  lady  with  a  small  villa  garden  would  find  most  useful 
instruction  in  this  little  manual.  The  gardening  matter 
in  all  the  books  of  this  time  is  excellent ;  where  they  fail, 
like  the  Loudons  themselves,  is  that  they  are  permeated 
with  that  early  Victorian  taste  now  thought  so  execrable 
— baskets  and  vases,  summer-houses  and  seats,  are  all 
tortured  into  frightful '  rustic  '  shapes.  The  planting  and 
laying-out  of  grounds  are  equally  bad ;  they  constantly 
recommend  both  kinds  of  Laurels,  which  time  has  taught 
us  are  the  most  destructive  of  plants,  killing  all  other 
shrubs  in  their  neighbourhood  with  their  insolent  and 
devouring  roots. 


NOVEMBER  221 

Those  who  have  larger  gardens  would  do  well  to  try 
and  get  Mrs.  London's  six  quarto  volumes,  illustrated 
with  coloured  pictures.  Though  artistically  bad  as 
flower-paintings,  and  inferior  to  those  published  now  in 
the  weekly  gardening  papers,  they  resemble  the  flowers 
enough  to  be  recognisable.  They  most  usefully  illus- 
trate the  text  for  the  ignorant  amateur,  who  learns  far 
more  quickly  when  pictures  and  letterpress  are  com- 
bined than  by  any  written  instruction  alone,  however 
good. 

Mrs.  London's  quarto  volumes  are  now  rather 
difficult  to  get  complete.  There  are  two  volumes  on 
perennials,  one  on  annuals,  one  on  bulbs  ;  this  one  is 
perhaps  the  most  valuable  of  the  lot,  as  it  gives  many  of 
the  best-known  bulbs  as  they  arrived  from  the  Cape, 
before  they  were  so  over-cultivated  and  hybridised  by  the 
modern  nurseryman.  Perhaps  the  volume  on  greenhouse 
plants  is  the  least  interesting,  as  so  many  things  are  re- 
commended for  cultivation  under  glass  which  have  since 
been  proved  to  be  hardy,  or  nearly  so,  and  grow  very 
well  out  of  doors — at  any  rate,  through  the  summer 
months.  The  volume  on  English  wild  flowers,  which 
completes  the  set,  is  a  little  superficial,  but  helpful.  It 
has  rather  good  pictures  of  many  of  our  native  plants, 
some  of  which  are  now  very  rare.  The  best  of  these 
wild  flowers  can  be  cultivated  from  seed,  even  in  small 
gardens,  giving  us  most  beautiful  effects  with  very 
little  trouble  and  expense. 

1828.  '  Memoires  du  Muse'e  d'Histoire  naturelle.' 
1834.  '  Memoires  sur  quelques  Especes  de  Cactees.' 
These  are  portions  of  two  books  with  most  beautiful 
and  curious  illustrations  of  Cactuses,  the  only  examples 
of  old  botanical  drawings  of  Cactuses  I  have  been  able  up 
to  now  to  procure.     They  are  not  coloured,  but  delicate 
and  precise  in  drawing  to  a  high  degree. 


222  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

1829. '  A  History  of  English  Gardening — Chronological, 
Biographical,  Literary,  and  Critical — Tracing  the  Progress 
of  the  Art  in  this  Country  from  the  Invasion  of  the 
Romans  to  the  Present  Time,'  by  George  W.  Johnson. 
This  little  book  is  so  comprehensive  in  subject  that  it 
is  rather  dry  reading,  though  Mr.  Johnson's  introductory 
chapter  abounds  in  interesting  information  about  the 
gardens  and  vegetable  cultivation  of  the  ancients.  Cato's 
description  of  the  cultivation  of  Asparagus  is  very  much 
the  same  as  what  is  now  recommended.  Gardening,  at 
no  time  in  the  world's  history,  seems  in  any  way  to  have 
been  the  especial  property  of  the  good  and  simple,  in 
whose  hands  alone  'it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleasures.' 
To  sit  about  gardens  in  summer  sunshine,  to  listen  to  the 
birds,  and  to  enjoy  the  scent  of  the  flowers  cultivated  by 
others  may  be  very  enjoyable,  but  in  no  sense  does  it 
deserve  to  be  called '  the  purest  of  human  pleasures.'  No 
one  who  does  not  actually  work  in  his  own  garden  can 
ever  really  realise  the  pleasure  of  having  one,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  a  garden  entirely  worked  by  others  is  merely 
a  form  of  idleness  and  luxury.  The  title  does  not 
accurately  describe  the  book,  as  the  gardens  of  the 
ancients  are  confined  to  the  introduction,  and  the  history 
of  English  gardening  begins  only  from  the  accession  of 
Edward  III.  The  main  part  of  it  is  a  detailed  account 
of  all  the  books  that  have  been  written  on  the  art  of 
gardening.  Mr.  Johnson  most  critically  describes  the 
letterpress  of  gardening  books,  but  very  little  notice 
indeed  is  taken  of  any  illustrating,  and  when  he  reaches 
Curtis's  beautiful*  Flora  Londinensis  '  he  gives  it  no  more 
praise  than  to  any  little  short  gardening  essay  that 
may  have  appeared  at  the  time.  Anyone  going  to  the 
Museum  Library  with  this  comprehensive  catalogue 
would  have  but  a  slight  idea  of  what  are  the  best  books 
to  ask  for.  Till  the  appearance  of  Miss  Amherst's 


NOVEMBER  223 

book  in  1895,  I  believe  this  was  the  only  existing  book  of 
reference  on  the  history  of  English  gardening. 

1830.  '  On  the  Portraits  of  English  Authors  on  Gar- 
dening, with  Biographical  Notices,'  by  S.  Felton.  A 
curious  and  really  valuable  book  of  reference.  Mr. 
Felton,  in  his  preface,  pays  high  tribute  to  the  '  History 
of  English  Gardening,'  just  described,  and  says :  '  Mr. 
Johnson's  work  is  the  result  of  original  thought  and  of 
an  ardent  and  extended  scientific  research.  Mine  is  a 
compilation  "made  with  a  pair  of  scissors,"  to  copy  the 
words  of  Mr.  Mathias,  which  he  applies  to  a  certain 
edition  of  Pope.  I  content  myself,  however,  with  the 
reflection  of  Mr.  Walpole,  that "  they  who  cannot  perform 
great  things  themselves  may  yet  have  a  satisfaction  in 
doing  justice  to  those  who  can."  '  This  reminds  me  of  the 
flippant  newspaper  critic  who  called  Sir  George  Cornewall 
Lewis's  '  Influence  of  Authority  in  Matters  of  Opinion ' '  a 
book  to  prove  that,  if  you  did  not  know  a  thing,  you 
should  ask  some  one  who  did.'  There  is  a  delightful 
wisdom  in  this  remark. 

1830  (about).  'The  Florist's  Journal  and  Gardening 
Eecord.'  I  have  two  volumes  of  this  publication.  The 
plates  are  well  drawn  and  coloured,  and  are  more  delicate 
than  those  in  Mrs.  Loudon's  books.  One  volume  con- 
tains a  fascinating  picture  of  that  rather  rare  flower, 
which  I  have  failed  as  yet  to  bloom,  called  Zamchneria 
californica.  The  two  volumes  are  good  specimens  of 
the  books  of  the  period. 

1834.  '  The  Magazine  of  Botany,'  by  Joseph  Paxton. 
In  this  year  the  intelligent  gardener  at  Chatsworth  started 
his  'Magazine  of  Botany,'  which  was  finished  in  1849. 
I  have  the  complete  set  of  sixteen  volumes.  The  first 
volume  contains  a  somewhat  fulsome  and  yet  touchingly 
hearty  dedication  to  his  master,  the  Duke  of  Devonshire. 
Each  of  the  succeeding  volumes  are  dedicated  to  more  or 


224  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

less  exalted  members  of  the  peerage — some  men,  some 
women.  The  '  Magazine '  to  this  day  is  interesting, 
useful,  and  full  of  instruction  as  regards  the  cultivation 
of  desirable  and  uncommon  greenhouse  and  stove  plants. 
The  title-page  is  quite  simple.  Evidently  the  fashion  for 
adornment,  allegorical  or  otherwise,  hitherto  so  much  in 
use,  seems  to  have  entirely  died  away,  and  plainness 
rules  the  day.  The  page  has  nothing  on  it  but  the  title 
and  the  famous  Bacon  quotation,  which  can  never  be  too 
often  repeated :  '  God  Almighty  first  planted  a  garden, 
and  indeed  it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleasures  :  it  is  the 
greatest  refreshment  to  the  spirit  of  man,  without  which 
buildings  and  palaces  are  but  gross  handiworks ;  and  a 
man  shall  ever  see  that,  when  ages  grow  to  civility  and 
elegance,  men  come  to  build  stately  sooner  than  to  garden 
finely,  as  if  gardening  were  the  greater  perfection.' 

Bacon  is  delightfully  solemn,  but  one  cannot  help 
remembering  Adam  found  it  so  very  dull  till  Eve  came 
that  he  even  sacrificed  a  rib  for  the  sake  of  a  com- 
panion. 

There  is  a  sad  falling-off  in  the  plates,  both  wood-cuts 
and  coloured  ones,  though  they  are  executed  by  different 
people,  and  some  are  much  better  than  others.  Paxton 
must  have  studied  hard,  as  he  constantly  refers  to  the 
older  books.  What  is  of  chief  interest  about  him  is  that 
he  was  the  greatest  unconscious  instrument  in  the  move- 
ment he  helped  to  develop,  which  altered  the  gardening 
of  the  whole  of  England,  and  consequently  of  the  world. 
He  used  the  old  patterns  of  Italy  and  France  for  designs 
of  beds,  filling  them,  as  had  never  been  done  before,  with 
cuttings  of  tender  exotics,  which  were  kept  under  glass 
during  the  whole  winter.  Endless  sums  of  money  were  at 
his  disposal,  and  everything  was  done  which  could  facilitate 
his  efforts  to  make  the  terraces  of  Chatsworth  a  blaze 
of  colour  during  the  months  of  August  and  September, 


NOVEMBER  225 

the  months  when  his  master  came  from  town.  From 
his  point  of  view  this  was  a  most  praiseworthy  object, 
and  no  doubt  gave  great  satisfaction.  It  was  copied,  for 
the  same  reasons,  by  most  of  the  great  houses  in  England. 
But  what  was  really  unfortunate,  and  can  only  recall  the 
old  fable  of  the  ox  and  the  frog,  was  the  imitation  of  this 
system  in  all  the  gardens  of  England,  down  to  the  half- 
acre  surrounding  a  vicarage,  or  the  plot  of  ground  in 
front  of  a  suburban  residence.  The  ox,  as  we  know,  was 
big  by  nature ;  and  when  the  frog  imitated  him,  it  was 
flattering  to  the  ox,  but  the  frog  came  to  grief.  So  I 
think  to  this  day,  if  bedding-out  is  ever  tolerable,  it  is  on 
the  broad  terraces  facing  large  stone  houses,  with  which 
we  have  nothing  to  do  here.  Where  it  becomes  in- 
tolerable, and  perhaps  it  is  hard  to  blame  Paxton  for  this, 
is  in  the  miniature  Chatsworths,  with  their  little  lawns 
and  their  little  beds,  their  Pelargoniums — often  only 
coloured  leaves,  like  the  Mrs.  Pollock — their  dwarf  Calceo- 
larias, their  purple  Verbenas,  and  their  blue  Lobelias; 
where  the  lady  is  not  allowed  to  pick,  and  where  the 
gardener,  if  he  is  masterful  and  gets  his  own  way,  turns 
the  old  herbaceous  border  in  front  of  the  house  into  that 
terrible  abomination  called  'carpet-bedding.'  Paxton 
was  a  very  remarkable  man  in  his  way.  When  taken  up 
by  the  Queen  and  the  Prince  Consort,  he  built  in  1851 
that  wonderful  and  ever-to-be-remembered  glass  case, 
in  Hyde  Park,  the  first  general  International  Exhibition, 
which  enclosed  two  large  elms.  Poor  trees  !  how  they 
hated  it !  Their  drooping  autumnal  appearance  is  my 
strongest  childish  remembrance  of  that  Exhibition. 
Paxton  was  knighted  by  the  Queen,  and  partly  built  the 
Crystal  Palace  at  Sydenham  with  the  remains  of  the 
Hyde  Park  Exhibition. 

1835.  Culpepper's  'Complete  Herbal.'     A  republica- 
tion  of  his  original  '  Epistle  to  the  Eeader '  is  darted  from 

Q 


226  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

1  Spitalfields,  next  door  to  the  Bed  Lion,  September  5, 
1653.'  The  frontispiece  has  Culpepper's  portrait — a 
sharp  amiable  face,  with  long  hair,  a  white  collar,  and 
a  Puritan  dress.  Below  is  a  little  picture  of  the  upright, 
modern-looking  London  house,  surrounded  though  it  is  by 
fields,  in  which  he  lived  and  died. 

The  instructions  for  '  the  right  use  of  the  book '  are 
so  curious  that  I  may  as  well  copy  them :  '  And  herein 
let  me  premise  a  word  or  two.  The  herbs,  plants,  &c., 
are  now  in  the  book  appropriated  to  their  proper  planets. 
Therefore,  first  consider  what  planet  causes  disease ;  that 
thou  mayst  find  it  in  my  aforesaid  judgement  of  diseases. 
Secondly,  consider  what  part  of  the  body  is  afflicted  by 
the  disease,  and  whether  it  lies  in  the  flesh,  or  blood,  or 
bone,  or  ventricles. 

'Thirdly,  consider  by  what  planet  the  afflicted  part 
of  the  body  is  governed ;  that  my  judgement  of  disease 
will  inform  you  also. 

'  Fourthly,  you  may  oppose  diseases  by  Herbs  of  the 
planet  opposite  to  the  planet  that  causes  them,  as 
diseases  of  Jupiter  by  Herbs  of  Mercury,  and  the  con- 
trary ;  diseases  of  the  Luminaries  by  the  Herbs  of 
Saturn,  and  the  contrary  ;  diseases  of  Mars  by  Herbs  of 
Venus,  and  the  contrary. 

'  Fifthly,  there  is  a  way  to  cure  diseases  sometimes 
by  Sympathy,  and  so  every  planet  cures  his  own  disease ; 
as  the  Sun  and  Moon  by  their  Herbs  cure  the  Eyes, 
Saturn  the  Spleen,  Jupiter  the  Liver,  Mars  the  gall  and 
diseases  of  choler,  and  Venus  diseases  in  the  instruments 
of  Generation. 

1  (Signed)  NIGH.  CULPEPPER.' 

The  whole  book  runs- on  the  same  lines.  Of  course  it 
can  only  have  been  re-published  as  late  as  1835  as  a 
curiosity. 


NOVEMBER  227 

1835.  'The  Language  of  Flowers,  with  Illustrative 
Poetry.'  Inseparable  from  a  collection  of  flower-books 
of  this  period  is  one  example  at  least  of  the  curious 
childish  sentiment — or,  rather,  of  the  sentimentality 
which  was  the  fashion  of  the  day.  The  frontispiece  is  a 
little  bouquet  of  flowers  which  means,  being  interpreted, 
'Your  beauty  and  modesty  have  forced  from  me  a 
declaration  of  Love.'  It  is  always  the  woman's  fault, 
somehow,  in  all  times.  The  little  book  is  dedicated  to 
the  Duchess  of  Kent.  The  '  illustrative '  flower- writing 
is  curious,  and  the  dictionary  of  the  language  of  flowers 
very  arbitrary.  How  utterly  the  whole  thing  has  passed 
away  1  The  outside  of  the  little  book,  bound  in  stamped 
green  silk,  is  rather  pretty. 

1837.  '  Amaryllidaceae,'  by  the  Honourable  and 
Eeverend  William  Herbert,  and  dedicated  to  Leopold, 
King  of  the  Belgians.  This  book  is  very  botanical,  and 
dry  to  the  ordinary  reader,  though,  I  should  think,  com- 
prehensibly descriptive  and  interesting  to  the  student. 
The  drawings  are  good  and  delicate,  and  very  slightly 
coloured. 

1839.  'Pinetum  Woburnensis,  or  a  Catalogue  of 
Coniferous  Plants  in  the  Collection  of  the  Duke  of 
Bedford,  at  Woburn  Abbey,  systematically  arranged.' 
This  is  a  very  handsome  book,  unfortunately  not  large 
enough  to  show  off  the  really  fine  plates  to  advantage,  as 
they  are  all  folded  in  half  in  the  middle.  I  imagine  it  is 
the  only  work  of  its  kind,  and  seems,  so  far  as  I  can 
judge,  to  be  very  complete.  Considering  how  late  was 
the  date  of  publication,  the  plates  are  very  well  drawn 
and  coloured  by  hand.  The  introduction,  dated  1839,  is 
written  by  the  Duke  of  Bedford.  In  it  he  gives  such  an 
amusing  anecdote  of  his  grandfather  that  I  cannot  resist 
quoting  it : — '  In  the  year  1743  my  grandfather  planted 
the  large  plantation  in  Woburn  Park  known  by  the 

Q2 


228     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

name  of  the  "Evergreens,"  to  commemorate  the  birth 
of  his  daughter,  afterwards  Caroline,  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough;  it  was  something  more  than  one  hundred 
acres,  and  was,  before  that  time,  a  rabbit-warren,  pro- 
ducing nothing  but  a  few  blades  of  grass,  with  the  heath 
or  ling  indigenous  to  the  soil,  and  without  a  single  tree 
upon  it. 

1  In  the  course  of  a  few  years  the  Duke  perceived 
that  the  plantation  required  thinning,  in  order  to  admit  a 
free  circulation  of  air,  and  give  health  and  vigour  to  the 
young  trees.  He  accordingly  gave  instructions  to  his 
gardener,  and  directed  him  as  to  the  mode  and  extent  of 
the  thinning  required.  The  gardener  paused,  and  hesi- 
tated, and  at  length  said,  "  Your  Grace  must  pardon  me 
if  I  humbly  remonstrate  against  your  orders,  but  I 
cannot  possibly  do  what  you  desire ;  it  would  at  once 
destroy  the  young  plantation,  and,  moreover,  it  would  be 
seriously  injurious  to  my  reputation  as  a  planter." 

'  My  grandfather,  who  was  of  an  impetuous  and 
decided  character,  but  always  just,  instantly  replied,  "  Do 
as  I  tell  you,  and  I  will  take  care  of  your  reputation." 

'The  plantation,  which  ran  for  nearly  a  mile  along 
the  road  leading  from  the  market  town  of  Woburn  to 
that  of  Ampthill,  was,  consequently,  thinned  according 
to  the  instructions  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  who  caused  a 
board  to  be  fixed  in  the  plantation,  facing  the  road,  on 
which  was  inscribed,  "  This  plantation  has  been  thinned 
by  John,  Duke  of  Bedford,  contrary  to  the  advice  and 
opinion  of  his  gardener."  ' 

1843.  'Flora  Odorata:  a  Characteristic  Arrangement 
of  the  Sweet-scented  Flowers  and  Shrubs  cultivated  in 
the  Gardens  of  Great  Britain,'  by  Frederick  T.  Mott.  A 
useful,  suggestive,  little  book,  and  the  only  one  on  the 
subject  that  was  ever  printed,  I  believe,  till  the  appearance 
of  a  book  in  1895,  '  Sweet-scented  Flowers  and  Fragrant 


NOVEMBER  229 

Leaves,'  by  Donald  McDonald.  This  last  often  gives  the 
name  of  one  scented  variety  in  a  perfectly  scentless 
family,  such  as  the  Camellia.  C.  drupifera  has  scented 
flowers.  I  observe  that  the  very  faintest  odour  justifies 
the  inclusion  of  some  plants  in  both  these  books. 

1846.  '  Flowers  and  their  Associations,'  and  '  The 
Field,  Garden,  and  Woodland,'  by  Anne  Pratt.  I  have 
none  of  Anne  Pratt's  books  except  this  curious  little  one, 
given  me  off  a  Christmas-tree,  by  a  serious  old  uncle,  because 
I  was  fond  of  flowers,  when  I  was  a  child.  It  is  roughly 
illustrated,  and  contains  much  desultory  information. 

1848.  '  The  Eose  Garden/  by  William  Paul.  This  is 
a  most  interesting  publication  as  regards  plant  growth, 
increased  variety,  and  the  utter  collapse  and  deteriora- 
tion, of  the  art  of  illustrating.  Viewed  by  the  light  of 
Eedoute's  Rose  book,  it  is  like  turning  from  a  Greek 
goddess  to  the  stoutest  of  matrons.  The  poor  Hose ! — 
it  has  swelled  and  amplified  under  cultivation  to  a 
despairing  degree;  but  the  execution  of  the  plates  is 
answerable  for  much,  no  doubt.  We  have  now  the 
figure  of  the  Bourbon  Eose,  called  'Souvenir  de  la 
Malmaison.'  Eoses  have  increased  apace  in  the  quarter 
of  a  century  since  Eedoute  painted  them,  but  many  of 
the  Eoses  in  this  book  are  now  called  old-fashioned. 
The  plans  and  instructions  for  Eose  gardens  are  not  what 
are  now  admired,  and,  one  would  say  are  singularly 
unsuited  to  the  spreading  wild  growth  of  healthy  Eoses. 

1854.  'A  History  of  British  Ferns,'  by  Edward 
Newman.  Enthusiastic  gardeners  in  the  'Fifties  gave 
a  great  deal  of  time  and  attention  to  Ferns.  Now, 
people  wisely  do  not  attempt  them  where  they  will  not 
grow.  My  other  Fern  book,  published  in  1868,  is  '  Select 
Ferns  and  Lycopods,  British  and  Exotic/  by  B.  S. 
Williams.  A  useful  book,  as  Fern-growing  in  stoves  and 
greenhouses  will  always  be  well  worth  while. 


230  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

(No  date,  but  I  imagine  in  the  'Fifties.)  '  Profitable 
Gardening :  a  Practical  Guide/  by  Shirley  Hibberd.  A 
nice  old  book,  full  of  clear  instruction  and  practical 
hints.  Books  of  this  description  are  often  to  be  picked 
up  on  old  bookstalls,  and  are  very  helpful,  as  being  the 
A  B  C  to  more  advanced  modern  books. 

1855.  '  Flora  of  the  Colosseum  of  Borne,'  by  Eichard 
Deakin,  M.D.,  with  a  print  of  the  ruins  of  the  Colosseum 
before  the  days  of  photography.  I  bought  this  book,  I 
must  confess,  out  of  pure  sentiment,  as  it  is  too  strictly 
botanical  to  suit  my  ignorance.  I  spent  a  winter  in  Kome 
when  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  the  vegetation  which  grew 
all  over  the  Colosseum,  both  plants  and  flowers,  was 
deeply  impressed  on  my  mind.  I  never  saw  Eome  again 
till  about  twelve  years  ago,  when  the  scraped  and  tidy 
appearance  of  the  Roman  ruins,  though  no  doubt  necessary 
for  their  preservation  for  posterity,  struck  a  cruel  blow  at 
my  youthful  recollections.  This  curious  little  book  gives 
the  botanical  description  of  420  plants  growing  spon- 
taneously on  the  ruins  of  the  Colosseum  at  Rome.  The 
record  of  this  absolutely  vanished  vegetation  has,  I 
think,  a  touch  of  poetry  of  its  own  which  can  better  be 
felt  than  expressed.  The  book  has  some  little  architec- 
tural illustrations  of  no  great  merit. 

1855.  'Beautiful-Leaved  Plants,'  by  B.  J.  Stone. 
This  is  a  book  rather  interesting  to  the  collector,  and 
illustrative  of  a  peculiarly  bad  period.  Its  quotations 
and  general  appearance  are  rather  those  of  a  c  Lady 
Blessington  Annual'  than  of  a  serious  gardening  book, 
but  I  should  think  it  was  a  standard  work  on  hothouse 
foliage  plants.  It  has  one  great  merit :  the  illustrations 
are  in  very  bright  colours,  and  the  plant  in  full  growth 
is  printed  in  black  and  white  on  the  opposite  page; 
this  is  a  first-rate  way  of  illustrating  a  book  of  the  kind. 
The  letterpress  gives  a  detailed  botanical  story  of  the 


NOVEMBER  231 

plant  illustrated,  and  the  method  of  its  cultivation.  A 
useful  book,  I  should  imagine,  for  head-gardeners  whose 
employers  are  fond  of  beautiful-leaved  plants. 

1869.  '  The  Parks,  Promenades,  and  Gardens  of 
Paris,'  by  W.  Eobinson.  This  is  the  earliest  of  many  most 
interesting  books  that  I  possess  by  Mr.  Eobinson ;  a 
book  full  of  information,  branching  into  many  directions. 
The  third,  and  I  believe  last,  edition,  with  the  illustrations 
much  improved,  was  published  in  1883. 

Next  comes,  in  1871,  his  '  Sub-tropical  Garden,  or 
Beauty  of  Form  in  the  Flower  Garden.'  This  second  title 
refers  to  that  which,  to  my  mind,  is  the  great  value  and 
interest  of  the  book,  and  to  be  attained  almost  entirely  aa 
well  by  hardy  plants  as  by  sub-tropical  ones.  In  1871, 
however,  the  idea  was  new,  and  is  even  now  but  most 
indifferently  carried  out  or  understood  in  nine  out  of  ten 
gardens  that  one  sees,  in  spite  of  all  Mr.  Eobinson's 
invaluable  teaching  both  in  this  and  many  other  of  his 
books. 

'  Alpine  Flowers  for  English  Gardens.'  Mine  is  the 
third  edition.  The  illustrations  are  popular,  and  inferior 
to  those  in  most  of  Mr.  Eobinson's  books.  How  much 
joy  do  the  Alps  recall  to  thousands  of  people  !  Even  for 
those  who  do  not  enjoy  mountain  scenery,  there  are 
always  the  lakes  and  the  flora. 

Avec  leurs  grands  sommets,  leurs  glaces  eternelles 
Par  un  soleil  d'6t6  que  les  Alpes  sont  belles  ! 

Some  of  Mr.  Euskin's  happiest  lines,  I  think,  are  in 
the  '  Mont  Blanc  revisited  ' : 

0  mount  beloved,  my  eyes  again 
Behold  the  twilight's  sanguine  stain 
Along  thy  peaks  expire ; 

0  mount  beloved,  thy  frontier  waste 

1  seek  with  a  religious  haste 
And  reverent  desire. 


232     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

And  who  can  ever  think  of  Switzerland  apart  from 
Matthew  Arnold's  two  wonderful  Obermann  poems  ?  Do 
not  some  spirits  still  exist  who  slip  '  their  chain '  with 
Matthew  Arnold  ? 

And  to  thy  mountain  chalet  come, 

And  lie  beside  its  door, 
And  hear  the  wild  bees'  Alpine  hum, 
And  thy  sad,  tranquil  lore. 

Again  I  feel  the  words  inspire 

Their  mournful  calm — serene, 
Yet  tinged  with  infinite  desire 

For  all  that  might  have  been. 

De  Senancour  !  how  these  poems  '  To  Obermann '  have 
carried  your  melancholy  eloquence  from  the  early  years 
of  the  century  to  its  very  end  ! 

The  first  edition  of  the  '  Wild  Garden '  was  published 
in  1881,  and  of  all  modern  illustrated  flower-books  it  is 
the  only  one  I  know  that  makes  me  feel  really  enthu- 
siastic. The  drawings  in  it,  by  Mr.  Alfred  Parsons,  are 
exquisite  and  quite  original.  At  the  time  of  its  publica- 
tion the  method  was  new,  and,  to  my  mind,  it  has  not 
yet  been  surpassed.  I  have  also  the  fourth  edition,  which 
came  out  in  1894,  with  much  new  matter  and  several  new 
illustrations,  especially  landscapes ;  but  I  prefer  the  first 
edition — perhaps  because  we  get  fond  of  the  particular 
edition  that  originally  gave  pleasure. 

I  am  afraid  that  the  hopeful  instructions  on  'wild 
gardening'  so  cheerfully  laid  down  by  Mr.  Eobinson 
must  be  taken  with  a  great  many  grains  of  salt  when  it 
comes  to  putting  them  into  practice,  especially  in  dry 
soils.  With  care,  labour,  knowledge,  and  space,  exquisite 
gardens  may  be  laid  out,  suitable  to  the  various  soils  of 
England  ;  but,  in  my  experience,  even  the  best  planting 
goes  off  without  renewal  of  the  soil.  This  shows  itself 
with  the  happy  possessors  of  these  so-called  'wild  gardens ' 


NOVEMBER  233 

by  the  constant  desire  to  extend  them  into  pastures  new. 
Mr.  Eobinson's  description  of  a  garden  at  Weybridge 
ought  to  open  the  eyes  of  everybody  as  to  what  can  be 
done  in  light  soils.  All  I  wish  to  point  out  is  that 
merely  buying  the  plants  and  sticking  them  in  does  not 
make  a  wild  garden.  No  one  can  look  at  Mr.  Parsons' 
beautiful  drawings  of  the  Evening  Primrose  and  the 
Giant  Cow  Parsley  without  longing  to  grow  such  things. 
But  the  first  essentials  are  space  and  isolation ;  they  are 
worth  nothing  if  crowded  up. 

1875.  '  The  Vegetable  Garden,'  by  M.  M.  Vilmorin- 
Andrieux.  English  edition  published  under  the  direction 
of  W.  Robinson.  This  is  one  of  the  books  mentioned  in 
January  as  indispensable  to  anyone  who  wishes  to  be 
up-to-date  or  to  grow  special  vegetables  in  the  kitchen 
garden.  The  illustrations  are  from  the  French  edition, 
and,  though  not  artistic,  are  admirably  drawn,  and  give 
one  quickly  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  shape  and 
growth  of  vegetables,  whether  they  be  roots  or  plants. 

The  first  edition  of  the  now  far-famed  '  English  Flower 
Garden '  came  out  in  1883,  and  the  one  published  this 
year  (1896)  is  the  sixth  edition.  It  has  been  immensely 
added  to,  and  the  present  illustrations  are  among  the 
most  beautiful  modern  wood-cuts  I  know.  It  is  said  that 
books  are  now  written  to  be  read  and  understood  by  the 
village  idiot.  If  this  be  so,  I  must  own  that  the  first  and 
second  editions,  with  their  quantity  of  small,  gardener's 
catalogue  illustrations  of  the  plants  and  flowers,  are  more 
helpful  to  the  ignorant  amateur  than  is  this  beautiful 
illustrating  of,  let  us  say,  a  branch  of  Hawthorn  or  a  full- 
blown Tea-rose.  This  seems  a  cruel  criticism  of  a  beautiful 
book ;  and  it  should  never  be  forgotten  that  the  fault  lies 
with  the  ignorant  amateur,  not  with  the  new  edition. 

1  God's  Acre  Beautiful,  or  The  Cemeteries  of  the 
Future '  is  a  strong  plea  for  cremation.  My  edition  is 


234    POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

the  third,  published  in  1883.  Everyone  interested  in  the 
subject  ought  to  read  it.  The  picture,  at  the  end  of  the 
book,  of  a  section  of  a  pauper  corner  in  a  London 
cemetery  is,  I  think,  enough  to  convert  anybody ;  but  it 
does  not  seem  to  me  that  the  practice  of  cremation  is 
gaining  much  ground.  The  recent  sweeping-away  of 
West  End  London  cemeteries  contrasts  badly,  even 
from  the  point  of  view  of  sentiment,  with  the  tombs  at 
Pompeii  used  for  urns  ;  the  chapter  referring  to  these 
is  headed  '  Permanent,  Unpolluted,  Inviolate.'  That  is 
certainly  not  the  modern  cemetery  ! 

In  1892  Mr.  Eobinson  published  two  lectures  of 
considerable  severity,  called  '  Garden  Design '  and 
'  Architects'  Gardens.'  These  lectures  were  mainly 
directed  against  two  books ;  one,  that  seemed  to  contradict 
all  Mr.  Eobinson's  work,  was  '  The  Formal  Garden  in 
England,'  by  Keginald  Blomfield  and  T.  Inigo  Thomas. 
The  fact  is,  that  near  large  and  stately  houses  there  must 
be  some  kind  of  formal  laying-out  of  the  ground, 
even  if  ever  so  informally  planted  (Mr.  Eobinson  him- 
self would  be  the  first  to  recognise  this),  unless  everything 
is  sacrificed  to  stateliness,  and  turf  alone  is  admitted. 
The  whole  discussion  is  full  of  interest  to  those  who 
possess  large  places.  The  next  book  on  which  Mr. 
Eobinson  pours  the  vials  of  his  wrath  (I  love  righteous 
indignation  on  one's  pet  subject)  is  '  Garden  Craft,  Old 
and  New,'  by  John  D.  Sedding.  Of  all  Mr.  Eobinson's 
books,  the  '  English  Flower  Garden '  will  always  remain 
his  masterpiece ;  and  I  repeat  here,  what  I  said  in  January, 
that  no  modern  gardener  can  get  on  without  it.  Every 
village  club  should  have  it,  as  well  as  his  first-rate  little 
halfpenny  paper,  '  Cottage  Gardening,'  which  has  many 
useful  things  in  it  besides  gardening. 

Anyone  who  can  remember  the  gardening  of  the  last 
thirty  years  will  have  no  difficulty  in  recognising  all  that 


NOVEMBER  235 

we  owe  to  Mr.  Eobinson.  His  untiring  energy,  the 
pains  he  has  taken  to  bring  his  books  up  to  the  highest 
and  most  complete  standard  of  useful  knowledge  and 
reference,  his  newspapers  (the  coloured  illustrations  of 
which  come  nearer  the  excellence  of  the  old  coloured 
engravings  than  those  in  any  other  modern  periodical), 
and,  above  all,  the  true  taste  and  knowledge  he  has 
brought  to  bear  on  English  gardening  are  influencing 
the  whole  of  Europe,  America,  and  our  colonies;  for 
he  has  headed  the  movement  in  the  right  direction, 
teaching  the  true  principles  of  the  laying-out  of  gardens 
and  the  preservation  and  cultivation  of  plants  and 
flowers. 

I  have  (bound)  a  great  many  years'  numbers  of  '  The 
Garden '  newspaper.  To  look  over  them  is  endlessly 
interesting  and  suggestive,  though  it  is  apt  to  be  dis- 
couraging, as  so  many  plants  are  mentioned  that  we 
have  not  got  and  would  like  to  have. 

1872.  '  Flowers  and  Gardens,'  by  Forbes  Watson. 
This  is  the  only  break  I  make  in  my  resolve  to  mention 
no  book  not  in  my  possession.  My  reasons  for  doing  so 
are  that  it  has  long  been  out  of  print,  and  that  I  want  to 
make  a  short  extract  from  it.  So  far  as  I  know,  this  was 
the  first  of  a  long  series  of  books — not  so  much  practical 
gardening  books,  as  books  about  the  garden  as  a  whole 
and  the  way  in  which  the  grouping  and  growing  of  plants 
affect  the  individual  writer.  An  attractive,  suggestive,  and 
pathetic  little  book,  written  by  a  sick  man  to  beguile  days 
he  knew  to  be  his  last.  Mr.  Watson  was  perhaps  the  last 
of  the  men  who  combined  the  three  callings  of  doctor, 
botanist,  and  gardener.  What  he  writes  is  much  in 
advance  of  the  feeling  of  the  day,  and  it  is  full  of  what 
we  now  think  quite  the  right  tone  about  gardening.  In  the 
following  quotation  he  expresses  better  than  I  can  do  it 
what  I  want  to  say.  He  begins  :  '  Solon  declared  that  to 


236  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

be  the  best  of  Governments  in  which  an  injury  done  to 
the  meanest  subject  is  an  insult  to  the  whole  community. 

'  This  is  pretty  much  the  law  of  a  garden. 

'  Nothing  is  more  objectionable  than  the  manner  in 
which  the  common  plants  are  often  treated  to  make  way 
for  the  grandees.  Bulbs  taken  up  before  they  are  ready, 
and  dwarfed  for  next  season  in  consequence ;  small  trees 
or  shrubs  transplanted  carelessly,  and  thrust  in  wher- 
ever they  will  do  no  harm,  because  a  little  too  good  to 
throw  away,  and  not  quite  good  enough  to  deserve  just 
treatment;  and  many  other  plants  neglected,  over- 
shadowed, or  in  some  way  stinted  of  their  due,  as  not 
being  worth  much  trouble.  At  times,  even  worse  than 
this,  we  see  murderous  digging  and  slashing  amongst 
plants  in  their  period  of  growth.  This  is  not  a  healthy 
process  for  the  mind.  Whatever  is  unfairly  treated  is 
better  altogether  away,  since  we  can  view  it  with  no  hearty 
relish.  And  this  injustice  to  the  least  is  felt  inevitably  in 
a  measure  by  all,  for  it  affects  the  spirit  of  the  place. 
Half  the  charm  of  the  old-fashioned  garden  lies  in  that 
look  of  happy  rest  among  the  plants,  each  of  which  seems 
to  say  :  "  All  plant  life  is  sacred  when  admitted,  my  own 
repose  has  never  been  disturbed,  and  I  am  confident  it 
never  will  be."  You  feel  this  to  be  a  sort  of  heaven 
of  plant  life,  preserved  by  some  hidden  charm  from  the 
intrusion  of  noxious  weeds.  The  modern  garden,  on  the 
contrary,  is  too  apt  to  assume  a  look  of  stir  and  change  ; 
here  to-day,  gone  to-morrow.  The  very  tidiness  of  the 
beds  and  the  neat  propriety  of  the  plants  contribute  to 
this  impression.  We  feel  the  omnipresence  of  a  severity 
which  cannot  tolerate  straggling.  None  have  been  ad- 
mitted but  polished  gentlemen,  who  will  never  break  the 
rules ;  and  we  feel  that  the  most  cherished  offender  would 
be  instantly  punished. 

'  I  have  been  referring  here  to  the  herbaceous  plants 


NOVEMBER  237 

and  evergreens  of  the  ordinary  beds — Thujas,  Junipers, 
Khododendrons,  &c. — rather  than  to  the  larger  trees  and 
shrubs.  To  run  down  the  glorious  Rhododendrons  in 
themselves  would  be  preposterous  ;  but  they  always  have, 
however  large  they  may  grow,  an  air  of  gentlemanly 
restraint — a  drawing-room  manner,  as  it  were — which  must 
produce  the  effect  we  have  described  wherever  they  are 
very  numerous.  But  the  old  garden  impresses  us  always 
by  that  loving  tenderness  for  the  plants.  "That  wall- 
flower ought  not  to  have  come  up  in  the  Box  edging — but 
never  mind,  we  must  manage  to  get  on  without  hurting 
the  wallflower  ;  "  and  it  is  this  spirit  of  compromise — this 
happy,  genial,  kindly  character,  as  contrasted  with  the 
sterner  and  less  loving  spirit,  which  you  feel  is  ready  to 
descend  upon  any  transgressor  in  a  moment,  that  makes 
the  difference  of  which  we  speak.' 

Mr.  Watson  is  very  severe  in  his  condemnation  of 
double  flowers,  and  in  a  way  which,  I  think,  indicates  the 
same  nature  that  could  not  admire  Rubens  or  the  Venetian 
painters.  Surely  many  people  with  a  sensuous  tempera- 
ment are  no  more  to  be  blamed  therefor  than  are  people 
who  blush  to  be  reprimanded  by  those  who  do  not.  In 
their  power  of  giving  pleasure  the  strong-scented  double 
garden  flowers  are  superior  to  the  beautiful  single  ones, 
and  the  Neapolitan  Violet,  the  warm,  exquisitely  scented 
Tuberose,  the  tender  but  full-odoured  garden  Rose,  and 
the  Carnation,  give  great  delight  in  a  harmless  way  to 
people  of  certain  temperaments.  Why  should  this  be  con- 
demned, when  that  which  pleases  the  eye  in  the  beautiful 
forms  of  the  single  flower  is  praised  ?  Mr.  Watson  says, 
'  Above  all,  scorn  nothing ' ;  yet  he  himself  utterly  condemns 
the  cultivator  who  prefers  the  double  sweet-scented  flowers. 
It  is  the  old  story ;  as  Samuel  Butler  puts  it,  the  damning 
of  the  sins  we  are  not  inclined  to.  We  all  do  it  more  or  less. 
To  me  some  few  flowers  seem  vulgar,  partly  from  associa- 


238     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

tion  and  partly  from  the  unsympathetic  harshness  of  their 
tint.  But  surely  in  gardening,  as  in  all  else  in  life,  the 
broadest  view  is  best,  and  the  wisest  attempt  is  to  please 
as  many  as  we  can.  The  taste  of  the  ignorant  and  the 
critical  taste  of  the  cultivated  never  can  be  the  same  on 
any  subject,  but  both  are  better  than  indifference  and  no 
taste  at  all.  I  know  one  man  who  dislikes  any  flowers, 
and  only  has  stunted  Portugal  Laurels  growing  in  green 
square  boxes  on  his  lawn.  I  know  another  who  will  not 
plant  anything  that  does  not  flower  or  fruit  in  the  autumn 
months,  because  that  is  the  only  time  he  intends  to  live 
at  his  country  place.  All  tastes  are  respectable,  though 
we  may  each  of  us  find  it  difficult  to  admire  the  taste  of 
the  other. 

1872.  '  My  Garden :  Its  Plan  and  Culture,'  by  Alfred 
Smee.  Second  edition,  revised  and  corrected.  This  book 
is  one  I  can  really  recommend  to  beginners.  It  is  modern 
in  illustration,  and  yet  it  retains  some  of  the  character- 
istics of  the  older  books.  It  really  teaches  you  what  to 
do,  and  gives  a  very  fair  idea  of  all  that  a  good-sized 
garden  requires;  it  names  and  illustrates  hardly  any 
plants  not  worth  growing;  it  includes  kitchen  garden, 
flower  garden,  Alpine  garden,  greenhouse,  stove,  and 
water  plants ;  and  it  winds  up  with  garden  insects,  animals, 
and  birds.  The  illustrations  are  much  above  the  average. 
Those  who  want  to  buy  one  single  book  likely  to  help 
them,  especially  at  first,  could  not  do  better  than  get  this 
one,  which  is  often  to  be  seen  mentioned  in  catalogues 
of  second-hand  books. 

1874.  '  Alpine  Plants,'  edited  by  David  Wooster.  This 
work,  which  is  in  two  volumes,  contains  a  great  many 
colour-printed  illustrations  of  Alpine  plants — not,  however, 
as  they  grow  in  the  fissures  of  their  mountain  slopes,  but 
as  they  may  be  seen  in  Mr.  Backhouse's  most  interest- 
ing gardens  in  Yorkshire.  The  drawings  are  rather 
exaggerated  in  size  and  harsh  in  colour,  but^the  book  is 


NOVEMBER  239 

distinctly  instructive  as  portraying,  among  what  are  called 
*  Alpines,'  the  most  showy  and  the  best  worth  cultivating 
in  English  gardens. 

1879.  '  A  Year  in  a  Lancashire  Garden,'  by  Henry  A. 
Bright.  This  little  book  is  the  one  I  alluded  to  in  March, 
and  to  which  I  consider  I  owe  so  much.  It  often  gives 
me  pleasure  to  read  it  over  now.  It  has  qualities  like  the 
garden  itself.  The  same  flowers  come  up  each  year,  the 
same  associations  link  themselves  on  to  the  returning 
flowers,  and  the  verses  of  the  great  poets  are  unchanged ; 
so  this  little  book  will  always  be  to  me  like  poor  Ophelia's 
Eosemary,  '  that's  remembrance.' 

The  quotations  throughout  the  book  are  quite  un- 
usually original  and  appropriate. 

(No  date.)  'Gleanings  from  Old  Garden  Literature,' 
by  W.  Carew  Hazlitt.  Of  all  the  recent  little  books 
referring  in  some  way  directly  or  indirectly  to  gardens, 
this  one,  I  think,  gives  me  the  most  pleasure.  It  has 
all  the  charm  of  a  conversation  with  a  clever  and  sym- 
pathetic man  on  subjects  that  are  dear  to  him  and  to 
oneself.  Mr.  Hazlitt  quotes,  from  Cowley's  preface  to 
his  poem  of  'The  Garden,'  the  delightful  wish  which 
comes  home  to  so  many  when  the  strife  and  toil  of 
life  are  more  or  less  over  and  evening  is  drawing 
near : — '  I  never  had  any  other  desire  so  strong  and 
so  like  covetousness  as  that  one  which  I  have  had 
always,  that  I  might  be  master  at  last  of  a  small  house 
and  large  garden,  with  very  moderate  conveniences 
joined  to  them,  and  there  dedicate  the  remainder  of  my 
life  to  the  culture  of  them  and  the  study  of  Nature.'  To 
anyone  who  has  found  any  interest  in  my  book-notes,  I 
would  say, '  Get  this  little  book ;  you  will  find  pleasure  in  it.' 

1881.  '  Notes  and  Thoughts  on  Gardens  and  Wood- 
lands,' by  the  late  Frances  Jane  Hope.  This  is  a  most 
excellent  and  helpful  work  to  the  true  amateur  gardener. 
Though  without  the  unique  literary  flavour  of  that  book,  it 


24o     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY  GARDEN 

belongs  in  a  way  to  what  I  would  call  the  '  Lancashire 
Garden '  series,  and  is  not  only  useful  by  reason  of  its 
suggestive  and  instructive  qualities,  but  is  full  of  indi- 
viduality and  information.  Miss  Hope  strikes  the  true 
note,  and  one,  it  seems,  of  the  real  difficulties  of  left-alone 
half- wild  gardens,  when  she  says,  '  These  two  winters  and 
one  summer  have  spoilt  our  spring  beds  and  borders,  and 
a  thorough  upturn  and  change  of  plan  will  be  requisite. 
It  was  impossible  to  use  a  fork  or  hoe  in  1879  in  our 
soil ;  the  result  of  the  leave-alone  system  is  a  carpet  of 
Marchantia  and  Hypnum  sericeum.  To  scrape  these  pests 
off  does  no  real  good,  for  the  earth  is  caked  below  and 
impervious  to  air,  sun,  or  rain.  So  we  are  longing  for  our 
bulb  treasures  to  be  up,  and  to  get  on  to  our  alterations,  do 
away  with  rings  and  surfacings,  and  whatever  prevents 
us  loosening  the  earth  between  each  plant.  Looking  at 
our  border,  the  only  real  advantage  of  what  is  called 
bedding-out  struck  me  forcibly,  being  the  thorough  work- 
ing and  justice  done  to  the  soil.'  The  whole  book  is 
simply  about  gardening,  but  of  the  most  intelligent  and 
suggestive  kind. 

1884.  '  Hardy  Perennials,'  by  John  Wood.  An  ex- 
cellent, cheap,  instructive  little  book.  Mr.  Wood,  of 
Kirkstall,  Yorkshire,  has  a  very  fine  collection  of  herb- 
aceous plants  for  sale. 

1884.  'Days  and  Hours  in  a  Garden,'  by  E.  V.  B. 
This  is  a  garden  book  rather  breathing  the  sweet  luxury 
and  joy  of  a  garden  than  one  very  full  of  instruction  or 
practical  experience.  E.  V.  B.  herself  owns  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  gardens  I  know ;  and  the  book  has,  I  think, 
that  power  which  is  one  of  the  highest  qualities  of  art,  of 
making  one  feel  beauty.  The  little  pen-and-ink  drawings 
are  full  of  charm ;  and  on  the  expanse  of  an  inch — for 
these  little  headings  to  chapters  are  scarcely  more — one 
breathes  the  pure  air  of  Heaven.  As  she  herself  quotes, 


NOVEMBER  241 

'  To  the  wise  a  fact  is  true  poetry  and  the  most  beautiful 
of  Fables.'  In  1895  E.  V.  B.  published  a  second  book, 
called  '  A  Garden  of  Pleasure.'  It  has  the  same  qualities, 
but  is  not  perhaps  quite  as  good.  We  are  apt  to  think 
this  of  second  books  on  the  same  subject — perhaps  we  are 
prejudiced  in  favour  of  our  first  friend. 

1890.  'The  Garden's  Story,  or  Pleasures  and  Trials 
of  an  Amateur  Gardener,'  by  George  H.  Ellwanger.  I 
suppose  nearly  all  readers  of  garden  books  have  seen  this 
charming,  clever,  tasteful,  little  contribution  from  the 
other  shore ;  I  do  not  mean  the  next  world,  but  America. 
In  spite  of  the  constant  interchange  of  books  between  the 
two  countries,  it  required  an  introduction  from  so  well- 
known  a  gardener  as  Mr.  Wolley  Dod  to  make  the  book 
known  here.  Let  us  thank  Mr.  Wolley  Dod  cordially, 
and  thoroughly  agree  that  an  international  exchange  of 
information  on  so  all-absorbing  a  subject  as  gardening  is 
most  interesting.  The  climate  of  America,  with  its  hot 
summers  and  long  cold  winters,  makes  gardening  a  much 
more  serious  undertaking  than  it  is  in  our  own  damp, 
equable,  little  island.  Mr.  Ellwanger  gives  us  a  most 
luxurious  and  opulent  receipt  for  the  old  favourite 
mixture  called,  all  the  world  over,  Pot-pourri  : — 'The  roses 
used  should  be  just  blown,  of  the  sweetest-smelling  kinds, 
gathered  in  as  dry  a  state  as  possible.  After  each  gather- 
ing, spread  out  the  petals  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  leave 
until  free  from  all  moisture  ;  then  place  a  layer  of  petals 
in  the  jar,  sprinkling  with  coarse  salt ;  then  another  layer 
and  salt,  alternating,  until  the  jar  is  full.  Leave  for  a 
few  days,  or  until  a  broth  is  formed ;  then  incorporate 
thoroughly,  and  add  more  petals  and  salt,  mixing  daily 
for  a  week,  when  fragrant  gums  and  spices  should  be 
added,  such  as  benzoin,  storax,  cassia  buds,  cinnamon, 
cloves,  cardamom,  and  vanilla  bean.  Mix  again  and 
leave  for  a  few  days,  when  add  essential  oil  of  jasmine, 

B 


242  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

violet,  tuberose,  and  attar  of  roses,  together  with  a  hint  of 
ambergris,  or  musk,  in  mixture  with  the  flower  ottos  to 
fix  the  odour.  Spices,  such  as  cloves,  should  be  sparingly 
used.  A  rose  Pot-pourri  thus  combined,  without  parsimony 
in  supplying  the  flower  ottos,  will  be  found  in  the  fullest 
sense  a  joy  for  ever.' 

1890.  '  History  of  Botany,'  by  Julius  von  Sachs,  trans- 
lated by  Henry  E.  F.  Garnsey.     This  book  will  commend 
itself  to  those  gardeners,  and  to  amateurs  generally,  who 
love  knowledge  not  hard  to  acquire.     The  history  of  the 
long  evolution  of  botany  through  so  many  clever,  patient, 
and  painstaking  hands,  is  even  more  interesting  than  a 
smattering  of  botany  itself,  now  that  we  take  its  simple 
laws  unquestioningly  as  we  take  the  great  fact  that  the 
earth  revolves   on   its   own  axis,   though  we  each  day 
repeat  the  old  expressions  that  the  sun  rises  and  the  sun 
sets. 

1891.  'The    Miniature    Fruit    Garden,'   by    Thomas 
Rivers  and  T.  Francis  Rivers.     The  twentieth  edition. 
This  fact  proclaims  more   eloquently   than   any   words 
of  mine  can  do  the  excellence  and  usefulness  of  this 
little  book.     Of  all  the  many  changes  to  be  noticed  in 
my  life-time,  I  know  none  more  remarkable  than  the 
immense  increase  that  has  taken  place  within  my  memory 
in  fruit  cultivation  and  fruit  consumption. 

1892.  '  The  Garden  of  Japan,'  by  F.  T.  Piggott.     A 
charming  little  book,  the  fascinating  subject  of  which  is 
described  by  the  title.     The  illustrations  are  very  nicely 
drawn  ;  among  them  are  two  or  three  interesting  Japanese 
flower  arrangements.      In  March  Mr.   Piggott,   writing 
from  Japan,  says :    '  Every  garden  is  full  of  the  small 
shrubs  [Daphnes],  and  every  shrub  is  full  of  flowers.' 

1893.  '  A  Book  about  the  Garden  and  the  Gardener,' 
by  S.  Eeynolds  Hole.     This  book  is  well  worth  having 
for  a  modern  gardener.     It  gives  a  lot  of  instruction,  and 


NOVEMBER  243 

is  written  in  a  cheerful,  parochial,  kindly  tone,  most 
helpful  to  those  who  live  rural  lives  in  and  near  villages. 
He  rejoices,  as  one  would  think  everyone  must,  in  the 
allotment  system.  He  suggests  in  his  preface  that 
politicians  should  send  horticultural  teachers  into  our 
villages.  This  has  now  been  done,  and  I  am  told  the 
lectures  given  this  winter  in  our  own  village  at  home  have 
been  most  helpful  and  instructive.  I  myself  should  much 
like  to  see  flower  and  vegetable  shows  managed  on  some 
other  system.  I  think  that  prizes  should  be  given  for 
healthy  quantity  grown  in  a  small  space,  and  for  the  general 
clean  and  healthy  appearance  of  well-stocked  gardens. 
Such  things  are  a  great  deal  more  important,  for  food- 
producing  purposes,  than  that  there  should  be  a  few  giant 
Onions,  Carrots,  or  Cabbages ;  for  size  rarely  adds  to  the 
excellence  of  vegetables.  Dean  Hole  truly  remarks  that 
the  allotment  system  will  always  have  two  opponents : 
there  will  always  be  idle  men  who  will  not  have  gardens, 
and  ignorant  men  who  will  not  know  how  to  use  them. 

1894.  '  Italian  Gardens,'  by  Charles  A.  Platt.  This 
is  a  book  published  in  New  York ;  it  is  very  pretty,  and 
full  of  excellent  reproductions  of  artistically  taken  photo- 
graphs. The  letterpress  describes  the  gardens.  Of  Villa 
Lante,  at  Bagni  near  Viterbo,  there  are  four  illustrations. 
The  book  was  given  to  me  by  two  kind  American  ladies, 
a  mother  and  daughter,  who  came  to  spend  a  summer's 
day  with  me  in  my  garden.  They  had  been  all  round 
Europe,  studying  gardens  large  and  small,  and  the 
daughter  hoped  to  lay  out  some  original  and  typical 
gardens  in  America^nat  would  be  suitable  to  the  soil  and 
the  climate ;  also  to  try  and  preserve  the  beautiful  flora 
of  that  country,  which  is  in  danger  of  dying  away.  I 
thought  the  idea  interesting.  In  their  time  and  way,  under 
their  blue  skies  and  in  their  lovely  situations,  nothing,  I 
imagine,  will  ever  come  near  the  beautiful  Medician 

B2 


244     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY  GARDEN 

gardens  of  Italy,  which,  even  in  their  decay,  are  never 
forgotten  by  those  who  once  have  had  the  joy  of  wander- 
ing in  them. 

1894.  'The  Natural  History  of  Plants,'  from  the 
German  of  Anton  Kerner  von  Marilaun,  Professor  of 
Botany  in  the  University  of  Vienna,  by  F.  W.  Oliver 
Quain,  Professor  of  Botany  in  University  College,  London. 
For  the  modern  botanist  this  book  is  deeply  interesting. 
I  am,  alas  !  no  botanist,  and  have  no  scientific  knowledge  ; 
but  to  take  up  the  book,  and  to  read  a  page  or  two 
anywhere,  opens  one's  eyes  wide  with  wonder.  It 
refers  principally  to  microscopic  botany.  The  coloured 
plates  are  saddening  to  a  degree ;  they  seem  to  me  all 
that  botanical  plates  ought  not  to  be,  and  somehow 
appear  to  have  been  affected  by  Miss  North's  system  of 
flower-painting.  How  valuable  would  have  been  her 
untiring  energy,  if  the  drawings  so  generously  given  to 
Kew  had  been  either  artistic,  like  Mr.  Parsons',  or,  still 
better,  from  the  scientific  point  of  view,  botanical  and 
delicately  true, like  Jacquin's  or  Bedout6's,  or  the  drawings 
in  Curtis's  books  !  In  the  chromo-lithographs  of  these 
four  volumes  we  have  attempts  at  the  impossible — large 
plants  in  the  foreground,  with  skies,  distances,  and  middle- 
distance  all  out  of  tone.  The  wood-cuts  are  much 
better ;  some  are  very  good  and  delicate,  especially  the 
representations  of  strongly  magnified  subjects.  I  bought 
the  book  as  bringing  illustrated  plant-lore  down  to  the 
latest  date.  The  account,  in  the  third  volume,  of  the  dis- 
tribution of  pollen  is  .thriUingly  interesting,  and  is  within 
the  comprehension  of  the  aforenamed  '  village  idiot '  ; 
many  of  our  ordinary  garden  flowers  are  figured  as  ex- 
amples. The  saddest  attempt  at  a  picture  is  a  Brobding- 
nagian  representation  of  an  Alpine  Bhododendron,  with 
pines  and  snow-clad  mountains  in  the  distance.  I  may 
be  wrong,  but  to  me  it  seems  waste  of  talent  and  time 


NOVEMBER  245 

and  money  to  illustrate  books  in  this  way.  These 
illustrations  are  printed  in  Germany  ;  let  us  hope  that  the 
artists  were  also  Germans. 

1895.  '  In  a  Gloucestershire  Garden,'  by  Henry 
Ellacombe.  I  think  most  people  who  are  personally 
interested  in  their  gardens  will  enjoy  this  book ;  there  is 
much  to  be  learnt  from  it,  and  the  second  part  is  especially 
instructive.  It  breathes  the  true  spirit  of  a  garden, 
independently  of  the  human  element  or  of  book-making. 
Canon  Ellacombe  names  many  of  the  old  Eoses,  now 
gone  out  of  fashion,  but  I  rather  doubt  if  he  has  ever  seen 
Eedoute's  wonderful  Eose  book.  He  ends  his  book  with 
a  warning  to  the  clergy  against  gardening,  as  being  too 
interesting  and  too  absorbing  an  occupation  for  them.  I 
can  thoroughly  echo  this  sentiment  as  a  warning  to  all 
young  people.  It  can  only  be  perfectly  indulged  in  by 
the  lonely  or  the  old,  and  by  those  who  do  not  mind 
neglecting  their  other  duties,  and  who  say,  bravely  and 
honestly,  '  I  am  quite  selfish  and  quite  happy.'  But 
of  course  this  is  the  danger  of  all  absorbing  pursuits. 
I  agree  with  many  of  Canon  Ellacombe's  remarks ;  one 
especially  can  never  be  too  often  repeated : — '  In  nothing 
is  the  gardener's  skill  more  shown  than  in  the  judicious 
use  of  the  pruning-knife.'  His  experience  of  the  American 
Bramble  is  exactly  mine — as  far  as  the  fruit  goes ;  it  is 
not  worth  growing,  as  the  fruit  is  less  in  quantity  and 
inferior  in  quality  to  our  own  wild  Brambles.  But  the  cut 
leaf  is  prettier,  and  at  any  rate  makes  a  variety. 

1895.  '  The  Story  of  the  Plants,'  by  Grant  Allen,  is  a 
humble,  little  popular  bdols ;  but  I  am  sure  its  perusal 
will  bring  pleasure  and  increased  understanding  to  many 
who  read  it.  One  of  his  sayings  is  *  that  plants  are  the 
only  things  that  know  how  to  manufacture  living  material. 
Eoughly  speaking,  plants  are  the  producers  and  animals 
the  consumers.' 


246     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

1896.  'The  Bamboo  Garden,'  by  A.  B.  Freeman 
Mitford,  C.B.  Mr.  Mitford  tells  us  in  his  preface  that  his 
book  is  simply  an  attempt  to  give  a  descriptive  list — 
what  the  French  call  a  catalogue  raisonne — of  the  hardy 
Bamboos  in  cultivation  in  this  country.  We  ought  to  be 
grateful  that  he  has  brought  within  the  reach  of  every- 
body all  that  is  to  be  said  on  this  most  beautiful  family. 

1895.  'A  History  of  Gardening  in  England/  by  the 
Hon.  Alicia  Amherst.  This  is  by  far  the  most  interest- 
ing and  remarkable  book  that,  I  believe,  has  ever  been 
written  on  the  subject,  and  far  surpasses  in  every  way 
Mr.  Johnson's  '  History  of  Gardening,'  before  alluded  to. 
The  book  is  full  of  information,  drawn  from  patient 
and  most  diligent  research,  and  will  be  of  real  utility 
to  students  of  the  literature  and  history  of  gardening 
and  to  the  owners  of  large  places.  It  contains  little 
that  will  practically  help  people  who  live  in  cottages 
and  small  villas.  It  alludes  only  very  indirectly  to  the 
beautiful  illustrated  flower  books,  especially  the  foreign 
ones,  which  so  far  exceed  our  own  in  artistic  beauty  and 
skill.  It  is  rather  sad  that  when  the  Society  of  Gardeners 
wished  to  illustrate  their  plants  in  1736  they  had  to 
engage  the  services  of  Jacob  van  Huysum,  brother  of  the 
Dutch  flower-painter ;  and  to  this  day  the  best  periodical 
coloured  flower-printing,  though  painted  by  Englishmen, 
is  printed  in  Belgium  (vide '  The  Garden ').  Miss  Amherst's 
book  is  one  for  constant  reference  ;  and  the  greater  one's 
knowledge,  the  greater  will  be  one's  appreciation  of  it.  I 
cannot  but  regret,  however,  that  it  has  been  printed  on  the 
disagreeable  modern  shiny  paper,  which  also  makes  the 
book  most  inconveniently  heavy.  This  paper,  I  am  told, 
facilitates  the  reproduction  of  the  illustrations  ;  but  these, 
also,  are  very  hard  and  ugly,  and  quite  unworthy  of  the 
book. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  keep  pace  with  the  modern 


NOVEMBER  «47 

books  about  gardens,  they  are  so  numerous.  Just  to 
complete  my  list  I  will  mention  several  in  my  possession, 
for,  as  the  motto  of  one  of  them  says,  '  It  is  a  natural 
consequence  that  those  who  cannot  taste  the  actual 
fruition  of  a  garden  should  take  the  greater  delight  in 
reading  about  one.' 

'  Voyage  autour  de  mon  Jardin,'  by  Alphonse  Karr,  is 
charming,  and  has  been  translated  into  English. 

'  The  Praise  of  Gardens,'  by  Albert  F.  Sieveking,  is  a 
collection  of  quotations  of  all  that  has  been  written  about 
gardens.  The  selection  is  very  complete.  Unfortunately 
the  book  is  out  of  print. 

I  need  hardly  mention  '  The  Garden  that  I  Love,'  by 
Alfred  Austin,  as  it  has  been  such  a  favourite  with  the 
public.  It  is,  of  course,  a  book  written  less  to  instruct 
about  gardening  than  to  show  what  a  beautiful  and 
enchanting  place  a  garden  is  for  conversation,  especially 
when  the  right  people  come  together. 

In  the  '  Edinburgh  Eeview '  for  July  1896,  there  is  an 
article  called  'Gardens  and  Garden  Craft,'  with  a  long 
heading  of  gardening  books,  which  many  people  will  find 
interesting,  as  I  did. 

In  the  November  (1896)  number  of  '  The  Journal  of 
the  Eoyal  Horticultural  Society '  is  an  excellent  lecture  by 
Mr.  F.  W.  Burbidge,  the  Curator  of  the  Botanical  Garden 
in  Dublin.  In  the  '  Journal '  the  lecture  is  divided  into 
three  parts — called  '  Garden  Literature,' '  Eeference  Books- 
on  English  Gardening  Literature,'  and '  Garden  Libraries/ 
It  is  interesting,  besides  other  reasons,  as  being  a  some- 
what new  departure  in  the  lectures  delivered  before  the 
Horticultural  Society.  I  strongly  recommend  those  who 
care  about  the  subject  to  read  this  lecture,  as  they  will 
get  a  great  deal  of  most  useful  information  in  a  very 
condensed  form.  Mr.  Burbidge  strongly  recommends 
garden  libraries,  in  which  I  entirely  agree  with  him.  N  o 


248     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

large  place  should  be  without  a  room  where  gardening 
books  and  weekly  gardening  papers  are  within  easy 
access  of  all  the  gardeners  on  the  place,  and  no  village 
club  in  England  could  not  afford  to  take  in  Mr.  Eobinson's 
excellent  little  weekly  paper  called  '  Cottage  Gardening,' 
which  I  mentioned  before.  It  costs  one  halfpenny,  and 
is  full  of  all  sorts  of  useful  information.  Surely  at  village 
shows  no  better  prize  could  be  given  than  the  back 
numbers  (bound)  of  this  most  useful  publication.  Mr. 
Burbidge  says  :  '  In  America  and  in  Germany  the  library 
seems  to  be  thought  as  essential  to  good  gardening  and 
profitable  land  culture  as  here  with  us  the  seed  room  or 
the  tool  shed;  and  in  England  we  are  beginning  to 
perceive  the  value  of  technical  education,  and  to  recognise 
the  vital  importance  of  the  most  recent  scientific  dis- 
coveries relating  to  our  crops  and  their  diseases,  and  the 
soil  in  which  they  grow.  Private  garden  libraries,  while 
most  desirable,  really  form  part  of  a  much  larger 
and  wider  question.  If  libraries  are  essential  for  the 
garden,  surely  they  are  even  more  so  on  the  farm.'  Mr. 
Burbidge  winds  up  :  '  But  to  form  libraries  we  must  have 
good  and  useful  books,  and  I  shall  give  a  short  list  of 
those  I  believe  to  be  the  best  of  their  kind ;  and  one  of 
the  best  ways  I  know  of  getting  the  best  gardening  books 
into  the  best  hands  is  to  award  them  as  prizes  to  the 
cultivators  and  exhibitors  of  garden  produce  at  allotment- 
garden  and  village  flower  shows.'  With  this  I  most 
cordially  agree.  Then  follows  a  list  of  thirty-eight  books. 
Another  paper  of  great  interest  is  on  the  importance 
of  British  fruit-growing,  from  a  food  point  of  view,  by  Mr. 
Edmund  J.  Baillie. 


249 


DECEMBER 

Orchid-growing  on  a  small  scale — Miss  Jekyll's  articles  in  the 
*  Guardian  ' — Winter  vegetables — Laver  as  a  vegetable — Advice 
to  housekeepers — Cooking  sun-dried  fruit. 

December  5th. — For  anyone  with  a  small  stove  I  can 
thoroughly  advise  growing  some  of  the  more  easily 
cultivated  Orchids.  For  many  years  all  Orchids  seemed 
to  me  to  smell  of  money,  and  to  represent  great  expendi- 
ture ;  but  this  is  not  the  case  at  all.  They  only  want  the 
treatment  suited  to  them,  and  the  same  care  and  atten- 
tion required  by  other  plants  that  are  grown  in  heat. 
Cypripediums  come  in  most  usefully  at  this  time  of 
year ;  they  last  well  in  water,  and  continue  to  flower  at 
times  all  through  the  winter.  Ther,e  are  endless  varieties 
of  them  to  be  bought,  and  some  of  the  least  expensive 
plants  are  often  as  good  as  the  costly  ones ;  it  is  only 
the  new  varieties  that  are  dear.  Some  that  I  have 
— green,  spotted  with  brown,  and  with  clear  white  tips 
— are  lovely.  They  have  looked  well  lately  on  the 
dinner-table,  arranged  with  little  branches  of  a  shrubby 
Veronica,  called,  I  believe,  V.  speciosum.  It  is  a  plant 
well  worth  growing  for  the  charming  light  green  of  its 
leaves  out  of  doors  at  this  time  of  year,  when  fresh  green 
is  so  rare.  Unlike  most  of  the  shrubby  Veronicas,  it 
lasts  well  in  water.  It  has  a  long  white  flower  in  July, 
which  is  not  especially  pretty.  We  also  grow  very  suc- 
cessfully Dendrobium  nobile,  Oncidium  sphacelatum,  and 


250    POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

several  other  Orchids  that  flower  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year. 

To-day  there  have  come  up  from  the  country — not 
from  my  own  home,  which  is  too  dry,  but  from  near 
Salisbury — some  branches  cut  from  an  old  Thorn  or  Apple 
tree,  and  covered  with  long  hoary-grey  moss.  I  have  put 
them  into  an  old  ginger- jar  without  water,  and  in  this 
way  they  will  last  through  the  winter.  They  stand  now 
against  a  red  wall,  where  they  look  exceedingly  well. 

December  10th. — There  has  been  in  this  year's 
1  Guardian '  a  succession  of  monthly  papers  on  a  Surrey 
garden,  written  by  Miss  Jekyll  of  Munstead  Wood, 
Godalming.  I  give  her  address,  as  she  now  sells  her 
surplus  plants,  all  more  or  less  suited  to  light  soils, 
to  the  management  of  which  she  has  for  many  years 
past  given  special  attention.  These  papers  have  much 
illuminating  matter  in  them,  and  are  called  '  Notes  from 
Garden  and  Woodland.'  All  the  plants  and  flowers 
about  which  Miss  Jekyll  writes  she  actually  grows  on 
the  top  of  her  Surrey  hill.  Her  garden  is  a  most 
instructive  one,  and  encouraging  too.  She  has  gone 
through  the  stage,  so  common  to  all  ambitious  and 
enthusiastic  amateurs,  of  trying  to  grow  everything,  and 
of  often  wasting  much  precious  room  in  growing 
inferior  plants,  or  plants  which,  even  though  they  may 
be  worth  growing  in  themselves,  are  yet  not  worth  the 
care  and  feeding  which  a  light  soil  necessitates  if  they 
are  to  be  successful. 

This,  to  me,  rather  delightful  characteristic  of  ama- 
teurs in  every  art  was  severely  condemned  by  Mr. 
Euskin  in  my  youth,  when  he  said  that  the  amateur 
sketcher  always  attempted  to  draw  the  panorama  of  Rome 
on  his  thumb-nail,  instead  of  humbly  trying  to  reproduce 
what  was  at  his  own  door.  The  practice  is  just  aa 
common  in  gardening  as  in  music  and  painting. 


DECEMBER  251 

Every  plant  that  Miss  Jekyll  names  is  worth  getting 
and  growing  in  gardens  that  are  of  considerable  size,  and 
which  more  or  less  share  her  Surrey  soil  and  climate. 
I  trust  that  before  long  these  articles  will  be  republished 
in  book  form,  for  every  word  in  them  deserves  attention 
and  consideration. 

December  l%th. — One  of  the  every-day  English  dishes 
that  is  often  so  bad,  and  can  be  so  excellent,  is  the  old, 
much-abused  hashed  mutton.  What  I  am  going  to  say 
about  it  applies  equally  well  to  every  kind  of  meat  that 
is  warmed  up.  Make  the  sauce  early  in  the  day  with 
stock,  gravy,  onions,  and  other  vegetables,  or,  failing  this, 
a  few  drops  of  two  or  three  of  the  bought  sauces,  and 
one  or  two  drops  of  essence  of  garlic.  Garlic,  which  is 
excellent  as  a  flavouring  to  most  sauces,  is  such  a 
dangerous  thing  to  use  in  a  kitchen  that  the  way  I 
manage  it  is  this : — Put  five  or  six  cloves  of  garlic  into  a 
wide-necked  bottle  and  cover  them  with  good  spirits  of 
wine.  When  wanted,  stick  a  skewer  or  fork  into  the 
spirit  and  use  a  drop  or  two.  The  spirit  evaporates  and 
the  flavour  of  the  garlic  remains.  But  even  in  this  way 
it  must  be  used  carefully  for  Engli&h  palates.  To  return 
to  the  sauce  for  the  hash :  avoid  flour,  or,  if  it  must  be 
a  little  thickened,  let  it  only  be  with  what  is  called 
'  brown  roux  '  in  '  Dainty  Dishes.'  The  really  essential 
point  is  to  make  your  sauce  first  and  let  it  get  cold,  and 
then  warm  up  the  meat  and  the  sauce  together.  If  you 
throw  meat  of  any  kind  into  hot  sauce,  you  are  certain 
to  make  it  hard ;  it  contracts  the  fibre  of  the  meat,  and 
spoils  it. 

One  of  the  very  few  ways  in  which  wild  duck  can 
be  warmed  up  is  to  mince  it  fine  and  then  curry  it  with 
some  well-cooked  curry  sauce.  This  is  made  on  the 
same  principle  as  the  curry  mentioned  before ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  onion  and  apple  (if  you  cannot  get  apples,  goose- 


252     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

berries,  or  rhubarb,  or  any  fruit  will  do)  must  be  fried 
together,  and  the  stock  and  curry  powder  added,  well 
cooked,  and  rubbed  through  a  fine  sieve,  allowed  to  get 
cool,  and  the  mince  and  sauce  just  warmed  up  together 
before  serving.  For  currying  fish  or  vegetables  a  little 
milk  or  cream  softens  the  sauce. 

Stewed  meats  are  seldom  really  good  in  England. 
The  following  is  a  good  way  of  cooking  haricot  of 
mutton  : — Set  a  stew-pan  on  the  fire  (an  earthenware  one 
is  the  best)  with  a  little  butter  in  it;  put  in  some  pieces 
of  raw  mutton,  neatly  jointed  and  cut  up  small;  fry 
till  a  nice  brown  colour.  Take  out  the  meat,  place 
it  on  a  dish,  add  some  carrots,  turnips,  onions,  celery, 
and  a  very  little  sugar,  and  fry  in  the  butter.  When 
brown,  replace  the  meat,  and  pour  in  some  cold  water  or 
weak  stock — enough  to  cover  all  the  ingredients.  Stew 
gently  for  three  hours.  The  stewing  can  be  done  in  the 
oven  or  on  the  hot-plate.  If  cooked  in  an  earthenware 
pot,  this  stew,  as  well  as  many  others  done  in  the  same 
way,  can  be  sent  to  table  in  the  pot  with  a  clean  napkin 
pinned  round  it. 

When  vegetables  are  scarce  in  winter,  and  you  have 
cooked  carrots,  turnips,  onions,  celery,  &c.,  strained 
from  the  soup  the  night  before,  it  is  a  good  plan  to  chop 
them  up  and  warm  them  in  a  little  butter  with  a  small 
lump  of  sugar,  some  pepper  and  salt,  and  serve  them  for 
luncheon.  If  the  quantity  is  insufficient,  you  can  easily 
add  some  cold  potatoes  and  cabbage. 

Potatoes,  now  so  often  forbidden  by  doctors,  seem  to 
me  excellent,  wholesome  food  for  people  who  do  not  eat 
meat.  They  can  be  cooked  in  such  an  endless  variety  of 
ways,  though  most  English  cooks  confine  themselves,  as  a 
rule,  to  only  two  or  three.  The  secret  of  good  mashed 
potatoes  is  to  boil  them  dry,  and  beat  them  up  with 
boiling  milk,  adding  a  little  butter  or  cream.  Cold 


DECEMBER  253 

milk  makes  them  heavy,  and  spoils  them.  Another  way 
is  to  put  in  a  stew-pan  some  potatoes  and  two  or 
three  sliced  onions,  to  boil,  with  only  enough  water  to 
cover  them.  When  they  are  done,  beat  them  well  with 
a  fork,  have  ready  some  boiling  milk  and  a  piece  of 
butter,  stir  these  in  by  degrees  as  you  beat,  till  the 
potatoes  are  like  a  thick  pur£e.  '  Dainty  Dishes '  has 
several  receipts  for  cooking  potatoes. 

A  seaweed  called  Laver  is  a  delicious,  wholesome,  and 
uncommon  vegetable  in  London  in  November  and 
December.  It  is  to  be  bought  at  any  of  the  really  good 
grocers',  not  greengrocers'.  The  London  supply,  I  be- 
lieve, comes  from  Devonshire,  prepared  and  cooked,  and 
requires  nothing  beyond  a  little  stock  and  butter  to 
moisten  it  when  it  is  warmed  up.  It  should  be  served 
in  a  small  copper  saucepan  with  a  lamp  under  it,  as  it  is 
not  good  unless  very  hot  indeed.  For  helping  it  a  small 
wooden  spoon  is  better  than  a  silver  one ;  at  least,  so  it 
used  to  be  served  in  old  days  in  the  North,  when  I 
remember  it  as  a  child.  Half  a  lemon  is  sent  up  with  it. 
A  good  many  people  do  not  like  it,  I  am  bound  to 
confess;  but  those  who  do,  find  it  a  treat  they  look 
forward  to — and  it  is  good  either 'by  itself  or  with  any 
roast  meat,  especially  mutton. 

The  same  little  copper  saucepan  is  useful  for  a  wild 
duck  sauce  which  I  always  make  on  the  table.  The 
saucepan,  on  a  spirit-lamp,  comes  up  with  some  gravy  in 
it ;  I  then  squeeze  in  half  or  all  of  a  lemon,  according  to 
quantity  required,  and  add  a  little  red  wine — Port  is  the 
best — and  some  Cayenne  pepper.  When  warm,  I  pour  it 
over  the  slices  of  wild  duck  on  each  plate.  Wild  duck 
should  be  very  lightly  roasted. 

Eice  plays  a  large  part  in  our  cooking  all  the  year 
round ;  Patna  is  nearly  always  the  best.  Eisotto  a  la 
Milanese  is  an  original  Italian  receipt : — Cut  up  four  onions 


254    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

very  fine,  and  fry  a  nice  brown.  Throw  into  the  stew-pan 
1  Ib.  of  rice,  and  let  it  slightly  colour ;  then  moisten  with  good 
stock,  and  cook  it  for  35  minutes.  Season  with  pepper 
and  salt,  a  little  nutmeg,  and  Parmesan  cheese.  Serve 
very  hot.  Chopped  truffles  or  mushrooms  may  be  added. 

An  excellent  winter  salad  for  serving  with  wild  duck 
and  many  other  birds  is  watercress,  carefully  picked  and 
washed,  pieces  of  orange  (cut  as  described  below  for  the 
compote),  all  the  juice  of  the  oranges,  and  a  few  drops  of 
good  salad  oil  added  just  before  serving. 

Orange  compote  depends  almost  entirely  on  the  good- 
ness of  the  oranges,  and  on  the  way  they  are  cut.  The 
best  plan  is  to  stick  them  on  a  fork,  and  with  a  sharp - 
pointed  kitchen  knife  remove,  at  one  cutting,  all  the  peel 
and  all  the  white.  Then,  with  the  sharp  point  of  a  knife, 
cut  out  all  the  pieces  of  orange  between  the  white  lines, 
leaving  the  white  in  the  middle.  Save  all  the  juice, 
and  cut  small  shreds  of  the  peel  without  any  white,  put 
them  into  some  water  with  sugar  and  the  juice,  and,  if 
the  oranges  are  very  sweet,  add  a  little  lemon  juice. 
Boil  up  this  syrup,  pour  it  over  the  pieces  of  orange,  and 
allow  it  to  cool.  This  is  a  good  foundation  for  any 
winter  compote.  Apricots,  bananas,  or  pineapple,  all 
can  be  added,  separately  or  together;  and  a  few  dried 
cherries  stewed  improve  the  appearance.  Another  excel- 
lent winter  compote  is  made  by  cutting  up  a  ripe  pine- 
apple (often  so  cheap),  stewing  the  peel  in  a  syrup,  to 
which  is  added  the  juice  that  runs  out  of  the  pineapple, 
and  a  little  ginger.  Strain,  and  pour  it  boiling  over  the 
pieces  of  pineapple.  A  few  bananas  cut  up  and  added 
to  the  pineapple  improve  it. 

Two  excellent  ways  of  serving  cold  chicken  for  small 
parties  or  suppers  are  the  following : — Order  the  day 
before  from  a  good  baker  some  extra  small  dinner-rolls, 
cut  off  the  tops,  and  take  out  the  crumb.  Mince  a  little 


DECEMBER  255 

chicken  and  ham  or  tongue ;  it  takes  a  very  small  quan- 
tity of  either.  Mix  with  well-made  Mayonnaise  sauce, 
a  little  chopped  parsley,  and  a  very  little  onion.  Put 
this  into  the  rolls,  and  replace  the  small  round  top  on 
each.  Finger  rolls,  cut  in  half  and  the  crumb  taken  out, 
can  be  done  in  the  same  way. 

The  other  way  is  to  make  some  little  open  sand- 
wiches— we  call  them  Barrington  sandwiches — in  the 
following  manner :— Butter  some  moderately  thick  slices 
of  a  good  tin  loaf,  and  cut  them  into  medium-sized 
rounds.  Lay  across  them,  in  pieces  cut  quite  narrow, 
some  breast  of  cold  chicken,  a  quarter  of  an  anchovy, 
and  a  thin  shred  of  green  gherkin.  These  form  narrow 
bars  of  green,  white,  and  red  across  the  slices  of  bread. 
Trim  the  edges,  and  serve  on  a  plate  one  laid  partly  over 
the  other,  like  cutlets. 

I  particularly  want  to  say  a  last  word  to  housekeepers 
who  are  anxious  to  indulge  in  hospitality.  Hospitality 
should  mean,  to  my  mind,  not  altering  our  whole  way  of 
living,  but  giving  the  best  of  our  habitual  food.  For  this 
nothing  is  so  telling,  whether  the  dinner  be  large  or 
small,  as  the  procuring  of  some  special  seasonable  luxury. 
It  is  well  worth  taking  the  trouble  to  get  any  such 
luxuries,  not  from  the  usual  shop  in  your  neighbourhood, 
but  from  the  very  best  shop  you  know  of  for  each 
speciality,  whether  fish,  game,  vegetable,  Italian  goods 
more  especially,  fruit  (fresh  or  bottled),  dessert,  biscuits, 
or  cake.  The  really  good  housekeeper  is  alert  to  learn 
where  the  best  things  come  from,  and  to  take  hints 
wherever  she  goes.  One  should  never  through  idle- 
ness give  up  getting  the  best  things.  If  you  go  to  the 
expense  of  entertaining  at  all,  it  makes  little  difference 
in  the  way  of  money  whether  you  deal  at  a  specially  good 
shop  or  a  second-rate  one,  and  the  results  at  your  table 
are  very  different  indeed. 


256  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

London  shops  are  now  full  of  sun-dried  American 
fruits,  principally  apples  and  apricots.  These  appear  to 
me  to  be  safer  and  wholesomer,  particularly  for  children, 
than  tinned  or  bottled  fruit.  If  carefully  carried  out,  the 
following  receipt  makes  them  excellent : — Select  the  fruit 
you  intend  to  use,  and  rinse  it  thoroughly  in  clear,  fresh 
water;  then  place  it  in  a  dish  with  sufficient  water  to 
cover  it,  and  allow  it  to  soak  for  ten  or  fifteen  hours 
before  it  is  required  for  use.  After  this,  put  it  in  the 
vessel  in  which  it  is  to  be  cooked  (which  ought,  of  course, 
to  be  earthenware),  simmer  it  slowly,  letting  it  come  just 
once  in  a  way  to  the  boil,  until  it  is  thoroughly  cooked.  If 
the  water  in  which  the  fruit  was  soaked  is  thrown  away, 
and  fresh  water  substituted,  much  of  the  flavour  and 
nutriment  of  the  fruit  will  be  lost.  Sufficient  sugar 
should  be  added,  when  the  fruit  is  nearly  done,  to  make 
it  palatable.  Dried  fruit  cooked  in  this  way  can  be 
served  either  hot  or  cold,  as  may  be  desired.  As  a  rule, 
when  allowed  to  cool,  it  will  be  fully  as  palatable  as  if 
eaten  warm.  By  cooking  dried  fruit  according  to  this 
method,  there  will  be  secured  a  wholesome  and  palatable 
dish,  full  flavoured,  and  resembling  as  near  as  possible, 
in  appearance,  size,  and  taste,  the  original  fresh  product. 

This  also  is  good : — Bavarois  of  fruit,  bottled  or  fresh. 
Warm  the  fruit  and  rub  it  through  a  hair  sieve,  and  add 
just  enough  isinglass,  previously  melted  in  a  little  water, 
to  set  the  fruit  when  cold.  Add  some  cream,  and  pour 
into  a  mould,  keeping  back  a  little  fruit  to  make  a  syrup, 
which  should  be  poured  round  before  serving.  Icing 
improves  the  dish. 


257 


SONS 

Boys  and  girls — The  health  question — Early  independence — Public 
schools — Influence  of  parents — The  management  of  money — 
Family  life  and  its  difficulties— Sir  Henry  Taylor — '  Mothers  and 
Sons ' — The  feeding  of  children — The  abuse  of  athletics— Success 
in  life — Spartan  upbringing — Youth  and  age. 

I  FEEL  sure  you  all,  as  my  nieces,  care  enough  for  my 
views  on  most  things  to  wish  for  a  few  remarks  on  the 
great  question  of  how  to  bring  up  boys  and  girls.  The 
opinion  of  anybody  who  has  thought  at  all  and  who  has 
lived  a  long  life  is  worth  having  as  the  personal  ex- 
perience of  one  individual.  Age  is  to  life  what  distance 
is  to  landscape,  it  makes  all  things  assume  fairer  pro- 
portions and  embrace  a  larger  horizon.  We  see  more 
plainly  the  good  and  the  bad  in  alt  systems,  any  con- 
victions we  may  still  have  we  hold  conditionally,  and 
we  lose  the  confidence  with  which  we  stepped  out  when 
we  knew  less  and  felt  more. 

I  had  better  begin  first  with  the  boys,  and  speak  of 
the  girls  later  on,  which  is  certainly  dealing  with  the 
matter  in  the  old,  conventional  way. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  more  boys  are  born  into 
the  world  than  girls,  but  they  are  more  difficult  to  rear, 
which  accounts  for  the  greater  preponderance  of  women 
in  the  end.  1  suppose  I  ought  to  have  more  to  say  about 
boys  than  girls,  for,  as  you  know,  I  have  had  only  boys 
of  my  own.  My  mother  used  to  say  it  was  a  merciful 


258  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

interposition  of  Providence  that  I  had  no  girls,  as  I  was 
totally  unfit  to  bring  them  up.  Naturally  I  do  not  agree 
with  this,  and  should  have  liked  immensely  to  have  had 
three  girls  as  well  as  three  boys. 

The  health  question  from  the  very  beginning  is  one  of 
the  greatest  importance.  In  the  case  of  boys,  at  any  rate, 
it  cannot  come  naturally  to  any  young  mother.  Her 
knowledge  and  intelligence,  however,  should  at  least  be 
sufficient  to  let  her  know  when  things  are  not  going  right. 
As  a  rule,  children  grow  up  as  '  Topsy '  did  :  '  'Specs  I 
growed.'  But  every  now  and  then  terrible  things  happen 
which,  with  a  little  sense  and  knowledge  of  when  to  call 
in  a  specialist,  are  quite  preventable.  I  pity  the  parent 
who  has  to  say  :  '  Alas  !  I  knew  too  late.' 

One  of  the  great  difficulties  in  the  emancipating  of  the 
children  of  the  well-to-do — by  which  I  mean  helping  them 
to  learn  independence,  and  to  take  care  of  themselves  in 
early  childhood — is  the  nervousness  of  mothers  and  nurses. 
If  parents  would  only  consider  how  sharp  are  the 
children  of  the  London  poor  in  looking  after  themselves, 
I  think  they  would  gain  courage,  and  their  children 
would  profit.  I  know  a  child,  the  youngest  of  a  family, 
a  fine,  plucky  little  fellow,  whose  whole  nature  was 
altered  by  being  put  out  of  frocks  into  knickerbockers  and 
his  hair  cut  short  when  very  young.  One  day  this  child 
was  taken  by  his  father,  at  the  age  of  four  and  a  half,  to 
the  City,  and  sent  back  alone  on  the  top  of  a  'bus  that 
set  him  down  at  the  end  of  the  street  in  which  he  lived. 
He  had  been  given  sixpence  to  pay  his  fare,  and,  arriving 
at  home  safely,  he  proudly  and  triumphantly  handed  the 
change  to  his  mother.  This  same  child,  at  twelve  years 
old,  after  leaving  his  private  school,  and  before  going  to  a 
public  school,  was  sent  to  Paris  to  learn  French.  With  a 
guide-book  in  one  pocket  and  a  map  in  the  other,  he  found 
his  way  about  alone  all  over  the  town.  To  my  mind,  pre- 


SONS  259 

cocity  that  comes  from  development  of  character  and  in- 
dependence, or  from  the  stimulus  of  ambition,  is  as 
desirable  as  that  resulting  from  over-excitement  or  over- 
bookwork  is  the  contrary. 

As  soon  as  children  are  no  longer  babies,  it  is  very 
unwise  to  leave  them  much  with  servants.  Little  boys 
have  no  natural  employments  at  home,  especially  in  towns, 
when  once  they  go  to  school.  I  should  recommend  parents 
who  live  in  London  to  give  up  dining  out  during  the  winter 
holidays.  It  is  only  for  four  weeks,  and  the  evenings  at 
home  with  parents  out  are  certainly  dull  for  boys ;  this 
applies  doubly  where  there  are  no  sisters.  I  used  to 
think  the  perfect  education  for  boys  was  the  foreign  way, 
to  live  at  home  and  attend  a  day  school :  but  the  universal 
condemnation  of  this  system  by  young  Englishmen  has 
shaken  me,  and  certainly  we  have  hardly  any  machinery 
prepared  for  carrying  it  out.  The  public  school  system, 
therefore,  seems  to  be  the  only  one  here.  At  any  rate, 
boys  are  brought  up  at  school  in  the  mythologies  of  their 
time  and  country,  as  Huxley  used  to  recommend ;  and  on 
the  whole  that  seems  to  answer  best.  The  thing  most  to 
be  avoided,  it  appears  to  me  as  I  look  back  on  life,  is 
bringing  up  children  on  any  sort  of  fad,  however  genuine 
the  conviction  of  the  parents  that  they  are  right  and  other 
people  wrong.  There  is  no  mistaking  the  bitterness  with 
which  young  men  talk  if  they  have  been  brought  up  in 
any  way  that  alienates  them  from  their  generation.  This 
applies  equally  to  great  and  little  things — from  the  training 
of  the  strict  Anglican  clergyman,  or  in  the  Agnostic's 
morality,  to  affectations  in  dress  or  peculiarities  of  diet. 

It  is  important  that  parents  should  not  be  unduly 
elated  by  good  school  reports,  for  they  mean  but  little. 
The  typical  top-of-the-class  boy,  a  good  plodding  fellow 
who  gives  no  trouble,  is  always  a  favourite  with  the 
master,  but  he  hardly  ever  does  anything  in  after-life 

s2 


260  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

An  idle,  naughty  boy  sometimes  reaches  the  top  out  of 
sheer  talent ;  but  that  is  quite  a  different  matter.     These 
things  always  depend  a  good  deal  on  temperament.    If  you 
are  stupid,  it  is  easier  to  become  good  than  to  become 
clever ;  and  you  must  never  forget  that,  for  the  tortoises 
to  win  the  race,  the  hares  must  go  to  sleep — and  that  is 
just  what  does  not  happen  in  these  days.     The  world  of 
school  is  an  immense  experience  in  itself,  but  a  world 
represented  by  one  sex  alone  is  apt  to  give  only  a  narrow 
and  one-sided  training.      The  necessary  discipline,  too, 
by  which  a  school  is  regulated  gives  but  little  scope  for 
boys  to  learn  how  to  take  care  of  themselves  in  the  every- 
day world  outside  of  it.     It  is  only  in  the  holidays  that 
they  can  gain  any  experience  as  to  the  management  of 
their  lives,  or — and  above  all — the  employment  of  their 
time  independently  of  rule.     I  once  asked  a  boy  how  he 
made  up  his  mind  at  school  about  what  was  right  and 
what  was  wrong.      He  looked    up,   and  said  without 
hesitation,  '  I  always  try  and  think  what  father  would 
say  about  it.'     At  school,  morality  and  public  opinion 
can  be  as  little  decided  by  hard-and-fast  rules  as  in  the 
world.     There,  as  in  after-life,  always  speaking  the  truth 
without  reserve,  especially  when  it  concerns  others,  may 
resolve  itself  into  being  only  a  form  of  self-indulgence. 
A  great  many  mothers  recognise  this  when  it  is  brought 
home  to  them  that  their  boy  has  refused  to  speak  the 
truth  in  a  way  that  would  implicate  others.     At  the  same 
time  parents  seldom  put  it  plainly  before  a  boy  that  there 
may  be  occasions  when  it  is  a  far  higher  standard  of 
morality  to  bear  personal  blame  than  to  implicate  others 
by  speaking  the  truth.      He  ought  not  to    have    the 
additional  pain  of  fearing  he  is  doing  that  which  would 
displease  his  parents,  and  is  contrary  to  the  principle  of 
simple  and  direct  truthfulness  which  has  been  inculcated 
at  home.     I  hope  nobody,  on  reading  this,  will  imagine 


SONS  261 

that  I  am  advocating  want  of  truthfulness  as  a  principle,  or 
that  I  doubt  for  a  moment  that  the  fact  of  speaking  truth 
intentionally,  even  to  the  injury  of  self,  is  one  of  the  most 
essential  strengtheners  of  man's  moral  nature.  It  does 
not  always  come  naturally,  however,  as  many  imaginative 
children  lie,  and  weaklings  are  sure  to  lie,  hate  it  as  they 
may,  for  it  is  the  certain  fruit  of  fear.  Jean  Paul  Eichter 
speaks  of  it  in  the  following  terms : — '  Lying,  that  devour- 
ing cancer  of  the  inner  man,  is  more  severely  judged  and 
denned  by  the  feeling  of  nations  than  by  philosophers. 
The  Greeks,  who  suffered  their  gods  to  commit  as  many 
crimes  with  impunity  as  their  present  representatives,  the 
gods  of  the  earth,  do  yet  condemn  them  for  perjury — that 
root  and  quintessence  of  a  lie — to  pass  a  year  of  lif  elessness 
under  the  ground  in  Tartarus,  and  then  to  endure  nine 
years  of  torments.  The  ancient  Persian  taught  his  child 
nothing  in  the  whole  circle  of  morality  but  truthfulness.' 

Truthfulness  is  so  essential  to  moral  superiority  that 
any  young  man  who  consistently  acts  a  part  in  life  for 
ambitious  or  other  reasons  is  very  apt  to  become  morally 
degenerate,  and  hardly  able  to  distinguish  between  truth 
and  falsehood.  It  is  one  of  the  things  which,  when 
discovered,  is  perhaps  almost  unduly  punished  by  the 
contempt  showered  on  it  by  contemporaries.  It  has  been 
finely  said,  '  Principle  is  a  passion  for  truth.' 

While  boys  are  still  at  school,  is  it  not  distinctly 
wrong  for  both  parents  to  be  away  and  out  of  easy  reach 
at  the  same  time  ?  Accidents  so  often  happen,  and  school 
authorities,  more  especially  school  doctors  and  surgeons, 
are  not  to  be  depended  upon,  as  they  cannot  give  the 
time  and  attention  which  a  boy  naturally  receives  at 
home.  If  the  eyes  of  love  could  be  bought  with  money, 
love  would  not  mean  very  much  in  the  world ;  and  it  does 
mean  a  good  deal,  in  spite  of  what  many  think,  and,  still 
more,  of  what  many  say. 


262  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

The  common  attitude  of  mind  of  intelligent  boys  who 
have  recently  gone  to  school,  is  that  they  know  every- 
thing about  life,  and  that  their  mother  understands 
nothing.  The  boy  thinks  his  mother  good,  and  that  no 
good  women  know  anything  of  life ;  and  that  settles  the 
question.  As  he  gets  older,  the  mother  must  explain  to 
him  what  she  thinks  proper.  These  matters,  however, 
depend  so  much  upon  the  character  of  the  mother  and  son 
that  it  is  impossible  to  generalise  upon  them.  Mothers 
will,  I  think,  rarely  get  much  help  from  the  fathers  on 
the  subject  of  school  life.  Most  men  have  a  wonderful 
knack  of  forgetting  the  difficulties  of  their  own  boyhood. 
The  influence  and  example  of  the  father  in  the  home  is 
immense.  What  he  does,  the  boys  will  probably  wish  to 
do.  Direct  help  in  the  difficulties  of  boy-life  comes  much 
more  from  the  mother  than  from  the  father.  For  this 
reason  I  should  say  that  the  mother  must  take  every  pains 
to  educate  herself,  and  learn  to  understand  as  much  about 
human  nature  as  she  possibly  can.  A  course  of  French 
novel-reading — and,  after  all,  a  great  many  French  novels 
are  magnificent  literature — is  not  otherwise  than  a  harm- 
less and  yet  useful  way  of  eating  of  the  tree  of  knowledge 
for  a  mother  of  five-and-thirty.  The  French  have  an 
extraordinarily  honest  way  of  facing  the  facts  of  life  and 
the  results  of  conduct,  and  they  are  far  less  sentimental 
than  the  English.  This  advice,  of  course,  applies  doubly 
to  the  woman  who  has  not  read  French  novels  for  her 
amusement  in  her  youth.  From  the  time  a  boy  first 
goes  to  school,  and  still  more,  I  think,  when  he  is  six- 
teen or  seventeen,  the  mother  should  put  a  strong  guard 
on  herself  not  to  worry  him  about  his  comings  and  goings, 
or  in  any  way  restrict  his  independence,  as  the  sooner  he 
learns  to  take  care  of  himself  the  better.  As  regards  the 
really  serious  things  of  life,  you  should  not  '  nag,'  but 
up  to  a  certain  age  you  can  forbid. 


SONS  263 

For  a  boy  of  seventeen,  I  believe  it  to  be  a  very  wise 
thing,  as  an  introduction  to  life,  that  he  should  be  given  a 
latch-key.  He  is  then  proud  of  the  privilege  and  much 
less  likely  to  abuse  it  than  if  only  given  to  him  when  he 
is  much  older.  To  deny  it  altogether  to  young  men  who 
are  living  at  home  seems  to  me  both  irritating  and 
ridiculous.  So  many  of  the  serious  sorrows  and 
troubles  of  life  come  from  ignorance,  rather  than  from 
wickedness,  that  it  is  advisable  to  send  the  boy  of  about 
this  age  to  some  friendly,  worldly-wise,  intelligent  doctor, 
asking  him  beforehand  to  give  the  boy  as  much  advice 
and  instruction  as  a  man  of  twenty-four  might  have  learnt 
from  bitter  experience. 

One  of  the  most  useful  things  a  boy  can  be  taught 
at  home  is  the  value  of  money.  With  a  well- trained 
sensible  boy  a  half-allowance  for  clothes  should  be  begun 
at  twelve  years  old  (by  a  half-allowance  I  mean  an 
allowance  that  includes  pocket-money  and  is  sufficient  to 
buy  every  article  of  dress  except  cloth  clothes),  and  at  four- 
teen the  allowance  should  cover  all  clothes  and  pocket- 
money.  When  allowances  are  first  given,  be  sure  that  the 
boy  starts  fair  with  a  sufficient  stock  of  clothes,  so  that 
he  should  not  be  handicapped  from  the  beginning.  The 
best  way  to  manage  the  allowance,  having  fixed  the  sum, 
is  for  the  father  or  mother  to  be  the  banker.  The  amount 
of  the  yearly  sum  should  be  clearly  made  known  to  the 
boy,  and  he  should  draw  the  money  himself  when  he 
requires  it,  as  he  would,  later  in  life,  from  a  real  banker. 
This  gives  the  parent  a  certain  control  over  dispropor- 
tionate expenditure.  Accounts  should  not  be  insisted 
upon,  nor  even,  I  think,  strongly  urged,  and,  above  all, 
never  looked  at.  What  is  desirable  is  constantly  to 
recommend  the  purchasing  of  useful  things  first,  and  to 
watch  a  little  that  everything  is  paid  for  with  ready  money, 
and  the  bills  kept.  So  long  as  the  world  lasts,  the 


264     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

prodigal  by  nature — not  from  mere  want  of  training — 
and  those  who  spend  rather  more  money  than  they  have, 
will  always  be  more  fascinating  than  the  careful  ones. 
The  rash,  the  impetuous,  and  the  thoughtlessly  generous, 
must  ever  prove  the  heart-winners ;  and  yet  those  who 
abet  them  are  the  first  to  turn  on  them  when  they  are  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hill  or  in  a  ditch  by  the  roadside. 
Because  of  this,  parents  should  force  themselves  to  be 
more  willing  to  kill  the  fatted  calf  for  the  saving  child 
than  for  the  prodigal.  This  should  be  impressed 
upon  the  sons  from  their  earliest  years.  In  the  case  of  a 
parent  really  wishing  to  pay  an  extravagant  son's  bills,  the 
hardship  of  it  will  be  brought  home  to  the  son  if  the 
parent  obliges  himself  to  give  an  equal  sum  to  the  other 
children  who  have  not  got  into  debt.  I  am  told  that 
giving  allowances  to  young  boys  is  extremely  rare.  I 
consider  it  of  fundamental  importance  in  their  education. 
Where  it  fails,  it  is  an  indication  of  character  that  is  full 
of  anxiety  for  the  future,  a  serious  evil  to  be  faced,  like 
hip-disease  or  a  crooked  spine.  As  a  rule,  everything  is 
provided  for  boys  till  the  most  dangerous  time  in  their 
lives,  and  then  people  are  surprised  that  young  men  don't 
know  how  to  proportion  their  expenditure  to  their  means, 
which  practice  is  the  only  wise  one  for  rich  or  poor. 
Everyone  is  rich  who  has  a  margin,  and  everyone  is  poor 
who  spends  more  than  he  has.  To  many  people  what  I 
have  just  said  will  appear  as  giving  a  very  undue  pre- 
ponderance to  the  management  of  money.  Admitting 
the  wisdom  of  what  was  said  of  old,  '  The  love  of  money 
is  a  root  of  all  kinds  of  evil,'  it  is  equally  true  that  the 
discreet  management  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  kinds  of 
good,  especially  with  young  people.  Nothing  is  so  selfish 
as  extravagance.  No  one  can  doubt  the  truth,  as  put 
by  the  modern  writer  who  says :  '  Never  treat  money 
affairs  with  levity — money  is  character.'  If  you  can  say 


SONS  265 

of  your  children,  when  they  are  twenty-one,  that  they 
have  never  been  in  debt  and  have  never  asked  you  for 
money,  you  have  attained  a  satisfactory  platform,  which 
will  enormously  help  the  dignity  of  the  situation.  Such 
children's  minds  have  not  been  pauperised,  and  the  parent 
has  not  been  put  into  the  difficult  and  painful  position  of 
having  to  refuse  or  yield  to  a  beggar.  Children,  on  the 
other  hand,  should  be  helped  to  remember  that,  however 
free  they  may  be  left  as  regards  the  expenditure  of  their 
own  allowances,  no  man,  woman,  or  child  is  free  while 
entirely  dependent  on  money  which  they  neither  earn 
nor  possess  by  inheritance.  How  often  does  a  son,  fresh 
from  leaving  school,  who  is  dying  to  go  for  a  visit  or  a 
holiday,  or  to  buy  a  gun  or  a  dog,  go  first  to  his  mother, 
of  whom  he  is  not  afraid,  to  plead  his  cause  with  his 
father  for  the  money  he  wants  !  This  is  a  distinctly 
wrong  system,  whether  the  father  is  rich  or  poor,  an 
extravagant  man  himself,  or  the  contrary.  If  the  boy 
gets  what  he  wants  at  once,  he  accepts  it  as  a  right,  and  is 
quite  ready  at  Christmas  to  ask  for  more.  If  it  is  denied  or 
grudgingly  given,  he  resents  it  with  irritation  as  a  want 
of  generosity  and  a  needless  check  on  his  pleasures. 
Whereas,  if  the  amount  of  the  allowance  is  from  the  first 
proportioned  to  the  income  of  the  parents,  it  is  brought 
home  to  their  minds  what  the  children  are  likely  to  cost 
them ;  while  the  boy  is  made  to  realise  that,  be  the 
allowance  large  or  small,  his  expenses  must  be  propor- 
tioned to  it.  In  the  case  of  really  poor  parents  it  is 
especially  necessary  to  impress  upon  the  whole  family 
that,  with  regard  to  pleasures,  education,  or  even 
necessities,  everything  is  subservient  to  the  fact  that 
money  can  only  go  as  far  as  it  will.  Of  course,  if  it  were 
necessary,  or  even  desirable,  each  member  of  a  family 
might  contribute  what  he  or  she  can  afford  to  the 
advantage  of  one  member  of  it.  Not  a  bad  illustration  of 


266  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

what  I  mean  is  touchingly  told  in  the  Life  of  Sir  James 
Simpson,  the  famous  Edinburgh  doctor.  All  his  elder 
brothers  contributed  to  educate  the  clever  youth,  above 
their  station  in  life,  for  a  profession  of  which  he  became 
so  distinguished  an  ornament. 

Once  more  I  ask  you  to  consider  how  common  it 
seems  in  human  nature  that  people  will  give  what  they 
are  asked  for  and  bothered  about,  rather  than  what  they 
can  afford.  However  much  this  weakness  may  be  taken 
advantage  of  in  the  charitable  world,  it  is  most  desirable 
that  it  should  be  kept  out  of  family  life.  Some  people 
even  put  forward  the  objection  that  allowances  check  the 
growth  of  generosity.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  very 
essence  of  generosity  is  to  give  what  is  your  own,  and,  in 
the  highest  sense,  there  is  no  generosity  without  self- 
denial.  Often  no  one  appears  so  generous  as  the  worldly 
spendthrift,  who  gives  with  a  free  hand  what  in  fact  he 
owes  to  his  tradespeople.  Another  idea  is  that  the 
independence  resulting  from  freedom  in  money  matters 
increases  the  difficulty  of  home  life.  This  is  markedly 
more  the  case  in  England  than  in  other  European 
countries.  Nations  are  so  unconsciously  steeped  in  the 
atmosphere  of  their  literature  that  I  have  often  won- 
dered whether  '  King  Lear '  has  helped  to  bring  about 
the  state  of  mind  in  parents  who,  though  most  anxious 
to  leave  money  to  their  children  after  death,  yet  so 
grudgingly  deal  it  out  to  them,  either  in  allowance  or 
capital,  during  their  lifetime.  One  of  the  amusing 
anomalies  of  the  new  succession  duties  is  that  they  have 
induced  many  parents,  who  have  never  thought  of  it 
before,  to  pay  over  while  they  are  still  alive  a  portion 
of  their  capital  to  their  children.  This  gives  a  young 
man  an  experience  in  money  management  which  he  could 
not  have  gained  while  only  receiving  an  allowance. 

A  frequent  mistake  of  parents,  even  when  they  think 


SONS  267 

a  great  deal  about  their  children,  is  the  conviction  that 
they  know  them  so  well.  After  a  child  grows  up  and  his 
nature  develops,  his  one  idea  is  to  go  forth  and  make  his 
own  friends  and  start  his  own  life ;  and  when  he  comes  back 
to  the  home,  however  much  his  heart  warms  to  it  when  he 
is  away,  he  re-enters  it  with  different  eyes,  and  often  with 
a  critical  spirit.  This  seems  very  hard  to  the  parents,  who 
have  changed  but  little.  The  best  way  of  making  their  love 
appreciated  is  not  to  exact  more  than  they  get.  The  real 
time  of  trial  to  parents  is  when  their  children  are  between 
seventeen  and  twenty-one.  They  would  do  well  to  realise 
how  little  they  know  of  the  change  that  is  going  on  in  their 
sons.  They  can  only  cultivate  them,  humour  them,  and, 
if  possible,  win  them.  Till  this  has  been  done,  it  is 
absolutely  useless  to  expect  their  confidence  or  to  resent 
the  fact  that  it  is  withheld.  The  more  openly  a  child  has 
been  brought  up  and  encouraged  to  speak  his  mind,  the 
more  odious  and  critical  his  language  will  appear  at  this 
age  to  outsiders  who  do  not  realise  how  far  better  it  is  that 
he  should  express  his  views  without  reserve  at  home  than 
that  he  should  disguise  his  feelings  there  and  speak  openly 
abroad.  It  should  only  be  impressed  upon  children  that  it 
is  in  better  taste  and  more  according  to  the  rules  of  society 
to  keep  their  criticisms  for  the  privacy  of  family  life. 

The  judicious  management  of  parents  by  good  sons 
and  daughters  often  makes  a  home  seem  happy  for  a 
time ;  but  I  think  a  few  open  and  even  angry  discussions 
are  wholesomer  for  the  characters  of  the  young  than  a 
trained  duplicity  implying  peace  where  there  is  no  peace. 
In  our  present  civilisation,  no  one  being  can  rule  the 
destiny  of  another  by  force,  not  even  in  the  case  of  a 
father  and  his  children.  I  think  it  well  to  remember  in 
our  homes  Swift's  saying  that  '  Government  without  the 
consent  of  the  governed  is  the  very  definition  of  slavery, 
though  eleven  men  well  armed  will  certainly  subdue  one 


268    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

single  man  in  his  shirt.'  A  father  cannot  get  the  eleven 
men,  so  he  had  better  not  try  to  govern  in  this  spirit.  His 
only  power,  if  he  loses  the  affection  and  respect  of  his- 
children,  is  that  base  and  ignoble  one  given  by  money, 
which— in  the  case  of  men,  at  any  rate — is  powerless 
against  the  noblest  and  best.  All  people,  both  young  and 
old,  should  remember  the  wise  saying  that  we  never  feel 
so  much  at  ease  with  our  consciences  as  when  we  are 
dwelling  complacently  on  the  faults  of  others. 

There  will  always  be  men  and  women,  but  perhaps 
more  men  than  women,  who  all  through  life  believe  in 
luck — those  who  think  when  things  go  wrong  that  they 
have  been  cheated  and  frustrated  by  others,  whereas 
nothing  has  happened  but  what  was  bound  to  happen. 
Men  of  this  stamp  often  endure  life  heroically  and  are 
clever,  inventive,  interesting  human  beings  ;  but  they  are 
ruled  by  circumstances,  instead  of  ruling  them :  they 
submit  to  life,  instead  of  making  it. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  a  book,  called  '  Notes  from 
Life,'  by  Sir  Henry  Taylor.  It  is  out  of  fashion  and 
forgotten  now,  but  it  made  a  very  great  impression  upon 
me  in  my  youth.  Sir  Henry  Taylor,  as  everyone  knows, 
was  the  author  of  '  Philip  Van  Artevelde :  a  Dramatic 
Romance.'  This  work  made  him  famous  at  the  time  of 
its  publication ;  it  is  still  read  by  students  of  English 
literature,  and  there  is  no  grander  subject  for  a  dramatist 
than  the  moulding  of  tough  natures.  I  believe  it  was 
never  put  on  the  stage  ;  and,  after  all,  an  unactable  play 
must  always  remain  a  kind  of  literary  mule.  Sir  Henry 
Taylor  bound  himself  to  us  most  tenderly  by  writing  a 
poem  in  memory  of  my  father,  who  died  at  Nice  in  1843. 
It  was  reprinted  in  Sir  Henry's  autobiography  a  few 
years  ago.  One  of  the  most  distinguished  of  our  Lord 
Chancellors  described  it  to  me  as  the  finest  memorial 
poem  in  the  English  language.  What  little  worldly 


SONS  269 

philosophy  I  acquired  in  my  youth  I  learnt  from  Sir 
Henry.  The  '  Notes  from  Life '  are  on  Money,  Humility 
and  Independence,  Choice  in  Marriage,  Wisdom,  Children 
The  Life  Poetic,  and  The  Ways  of  the  Eich  and  Great. 
In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  written  on  such  subjects 
since,  I  still  think  the  book  well  worth  reading.  The 
tone  of  the  articles  is  more  religious  than  would  be  the 
case  now  if  written  by  a  man  who  held  the  same  broad 
and  elastic  views  that  he  did.  He  belonged  essentially  to 
that  large  band  of  good  and  wise  men  who  never  tell 
their  religion,  but  his  language  in  these  essays  is  that  of 
the  fashion  of  his  time.  The  essays  called  'Money/ 
*  Marriage,'  and  '  Children  '  seem  to  me  now  as  interesting 
and  suggestive  as  when  I  first  read  them. 

In  1892  a  little  book  was  published  called  '  Mothers 
and  Sons.'  It  made  some  impression  on  a  good  many 
mothers,  and  this  is  not  surprising,  as  it  was  written  by  the 
successful  headmaster  of  a  public  school.  I  cannot  but 
differ  widely  from  a  book  which,  while  it  professes  to 
tea,ch  a  mother's  duty  to  her  son,  ignores  all  reference  to 
the  husband  and  father.  The  tact  of  mothers  is  dis- 
puted in  the  introduction,  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
women  vary  very  much  in  their  successful  management 
of  children  and  servants,  and  these  two  go  pretty  much 
together.  But,  however  much  a  father  may  leave  the 
training  and  management  of  his  sons  to  their  mother, 
his  blood  runs  in  their  veins,  his  example  is  daily  before 
them,  and  what  he  is  they  will  be,  more  or  less. 
Heredity,  I  admit,  sometimes  plays  us  strange  pranks; 
but  I  think,  if  people  will  honestly  look  round  on  the 
circle  of  their  acquaintances,  they  will  find,  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  that  the  stamp  of  the  children  belongs  to  the 
name  they  bear — to  the  family  of  the  father,  not  of  the 
mother.  The  tone  of  a  child's  mind,  especially  a  boy's,  is 
very  much  what  was  represented  in  one  of  *  Punch's* 


270     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

pictures  some  years  ago— a  manly  young  monkey  standing 
up  before  his  mother  and  saying  :  '  What  a  happy  day  it 
was  for  you,  mother,  when  you  married  into  our  family  ! ' 
I  should  not  have  alluded  to  the  headmaster's  book 
at  all  but  for  the  very  cordial  way  I  agree  with 
Chapter  IV.,  called  'Food.'  The  following  passage 
seems  to  me  entirely  true  : — '  Pendulums  have  a  way  of 
swinging ;  and  if  starvation  or  under-feeding  was  a  danger 
to  boys  thirty  years  ago,  it  is  luxury  and  over-feeding 
with  which  the  sons  of  nearly  all  classes  are  threatened 
in  1892.'  No  one  advocates  more  strongly  than  I  do 
that  young  children  should  be  wholesomely  and  suf- 
ficiently fed  (the  size  of  the  body  depends  on  this  with  all 
animals),  even  to  the  point  of  occasional  stomach  attacks. 
The  moment,  however,  that  a  child  is  not  well,  parents 
should  realise  that  what  weakens  it  is — not  the  want  of 
food  which  it  refuses  to  swallow,  but  the  fever  brought 
on  by  internal  derangement  from  overloading  the  stomach. 
Nearly  all  sick  children  like  fruit,  and  I  think,  if  fruit  and 
bread  alone  were  given  them  for  a  day  or  two,  they 
would  generally  get  well  without  any  doctor  or  medi- 
cines. Of  course,  if  the  nurse  insists  on  giving  just  a 
little  magnesia  as  well,  the  whole  thing  is  spoilt.  Fruit 
does  not  do  with  any  form  of  alkaline  drug.  It  is  most 
important  to  keep  to  one  treatment  or  the  other — the 
acid  or  the  alkaline;  if  not,  the  poor  child's  inside  is 
turned  into  a  saline  draught.  The  author  points  out, 
with  great  severity  and  truth,  the  absurdity  of  the  fact 
that  boys  are  fed  in  the  most  stimulating  way  on  meat, 
wine,  and  beer.  If,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  the  wine 
and  beer  are  knocked  off,  they  are  doubly  allowed  and 
encouraged  to  eat  as  much  as  they  like,  which,  in  order 
to  live  healthily,  they  have  to  work  off  by  playing  for 
hours  at  football  and  cricket.  Inconsistently  enough,  they 
seem  to  acknowledge  that,  for  rowing,  heavy  eating  is 


SONS  271 

bad.  The  athlete  and  the  Alpine  climber  know  it  well. 
It  is  proverbial  that  the  navvy,  who  is  said  to  eat 
enormously  with  a  view  to  keeping  up  his  strength,  is 
worth  nothing  at  all  in  the  way  of  work  by  the  time  he  is 
forty.  Nowhere  are  gout  and  rheumatism  so  prevalent, 
in  spite  of  the  beauty  of  the  climate,  as  in  Australia, 
where  meat  is  cheap,  and  people  live  principally  upon  it. 
I  maintain  that  if  more,  and  more  decided,  abstinence 
were  enjoined,  there  would  be  no  necessity  for  the 
number  of  hours  that  are  now  wasted  in  exercise.  Mr. 
John  Morley,  in  a  recent  speech  to  some  schools,  refers 
to  this  point.  He  says  :  '  Is  there  not  a  little  too  much 
addiction  to  pleasure  nowadays?  Do  not  young  men 
attend  rather  more  to  their  athletics  and  sports  than  is 
wholly  good?  This  was  what  had  been  said: — In 
Germany,  young  men  who  were  going  into  the  family 
business  travelled  and  acquired  languages,  and  learnt  to 
know  the  tastes  and  habits  of  the  natives.  In  England 
the  sons  of  the  house  devoted  themselves  to  pleasure — to 
billiards,  the  theatre,  sport,  and  so  on.  In  Germany  the 
father  said,  "  Thank  God  I  have  a  son !  "  In  England 
the  son  said,  "  Thank  God  I  have  a  father  !  " '  Mr. 
Morley  wound  up,  after  saying  that  those  who  worked 
hard  ought  to  have  pleasure,  as  follows  : — '  There  was  no 
doubt,  taking  the  country  as  a  whole,  that  pleasure  and 
sport  were  now  absorbing  an  amount  of  time  and  mental 
occupation  which  must  block  out  some  other  objects  to 
which  it  would  be  well  if  men  and  women  paid  atten- 
tion.' The  way  to  diminish  exercise  without  loss  of 
health  is  by  the  very  economical  method  of  diminishing 
food,  especially  food  of  that  kind  which  is  well  known  to 
increase  muscle.  From  the  little  I  know  of  French 
schools  it  seems  to  me  that  the  exercise  there  is  very 
inadequate.  We  are  told  that  Germany  is  our  successful 
rival  in  many  forms  of  physical  prowess  and  staying  power, 


472  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

in  spite  of  education  being  more  complete  and  universal 
in  that  country.  Is  it  not  possible  that  they  adjust  the 
balance  better  between  study  and  muscular  development? 

I  am  often  accused  by  my  friends  of  being  too 
ambitious — indeed,  worldly-minded — from  caring  too 
much  for  the  success  in  life  of  those  whom  I  know 
well  and  am  fond  of.  The  justification  to  myself  of  this 
accusation,  the  truth  of  which  I  admit,  is  that  the  youth 
of  life  is  a  time  of  preparation,  and  if  we  get  no  results — 
no  outward  demonstration — that  when  a  man  has  done 
his  best  he  has  done  well,  it  seems  to  me  like  going  up 
for  an  examination  and  then  not  caring  if  you  pass,  like 
acting  to  empty  houses,  writing  books  which  no  one 
reads,  painting  pictures  which  no  one  buys,  or  losing 
money  instead  of  making  it.  Every  now  and  then  a 
genius  is  passed  over  by  his  generation  and  acknow- 
ledged later  on,  but  this  is  the  exception.  Broadly 
speaking,  the  average  get  very  much  what  they  deserve, 
and,  in  vaguely  generalising,  one  can  only  speak  of  the 
average.  I  do  think  that,  having  travelled  half  the 
road  of  life,  we  have  a  right  to  expect  moderate  success, 
and  to  feel  disappointed  if  we  do  not  get  it.  I  am  sure 
to  be  asked,  perhaps  a  little  scomngly,  'What  do  you 
mean  by  success?  Happiness?'  No,  certainly  not. 
What  I  mean  is  easy  to  understand,  though  difficult  to 
define.  It  is  the  generally-accepted  meaning  of  success, 
perhaps  in  its  lowest  sense,  the  contrary  of  failure ;  and  I 
mean  the  same  as  Mr.  Morley  does  when  he  speaks  of 
success  in  the  following  words :  — '  It  is  the  bitterest 
element  in  the  vast  irony  of  human  life  that  the  time- 
worn  eyes  to  which  a  son's  success  would  have  brought 
the  purest  gladness  are  so  often  closed  for  ever  before 
success  has  come.' 

If  the  fashion  grows  of  parents  handing  over  to 
-children  some  of  the  money  which  would  otherwise  come 


SONS  273 

to  them  only  after  their  parents'  death,  the  habit  of  early 
saving  when  expenses  are  increased  on  first  leaving  home 
might  enable  young  people  to  live  much  more  economically 
than  they  have  done  in  the  luxurious  houses  where  they 
have  been  brought  up.  Anybody  who  remembers  the 
accounts  of  the  childhoods  of  our  grandfathers  and 
grandmothers  will  realise  what  a  garret  life  the  children 
of  rich  people  led  at  the  beginning  of  the  century.  The 
following  anecdote  is  a  small  instance  in  point : — My 
grandparents  were  very  rich,  and  spent  60,OOOZ.  on  the 
Parliamentary  election  of  their  eldest  son.  My  mother, 
who  came  in  the  middle  of  a  large  family,  has  often 
described  to  me  how  underfed  she  was  as  a  child,  and 
how  she  would  gladly  pick  up  and  eat  the  sucked  crusts 
dropped  by  the  babies  on  the  nursery  floor.  Another  of  the 
terrors  of  her  childhood  was  that  during  the  cold  Northern 
winters  the  nurserymaid  used  to  be  sent  down  to  break 
the  ice  on  a  fountain  in  the  yard,  where  the  children 
were  habitually  bathed,  as  a  means  of  strengthening 
them.  She  also  remembered  the  keen  delight  with 
which  they  welcomed  the  news  that  the  ice  was  un- 
breakable. When  they  grew  up,  after  seventeen  their 
life  was  merged  into  that  of  their  parents,  and  my 
mother  used  to  wonder  what  they  would  think  of  her — 
she  had  seen  so  little  of  them  during  her  childhood. 

This  bringing-up  may  certainly  have  had  the  effect  of 
enabling  the  children  of  the  rich  to  make  poorer  mar- 
riages than  they  are  willing  to  do  now  after  being  nursed 
in  the  lap  of  luxury  from  their  infancy.  Poor  marriages 
can  be  very  happy  if  both  parties  realise  what  they 
undertake,  and  if  the  husband  belongs  to  a  profession 
where  an  increase  of  income  is  possible,  and  where  his 
professional  expenditure  and  the  position  he  has  to  main- 
tain are  not  out  of  all  proportion  to  his  income  as  a 
married  man.  Members  of  society  who  marry  poor 

T 


274     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

make  a  great  mistake  in  thinking  that  by  living  even  as 
many  as  eighteen  years  in  retirement  they  will  lose  all 
their  friends  in  a  way  that  would  prove  disadvantageous 
either  to  themselves  or  their  children.  The  friends  of 
our  youth  are  our  contemporaries,  and  we  never  can 
forget  or  meet  on  terms  of  formality  the  men  and  women 
with  whom  we  once  were  intimate.  The  first  word  that 
drops  from  the  lips,  on  meeting  after  years  of  separation, 
is,  as  often  as  not,  the  old  familiar  Christian  name. 

More  than  thirty  years  ago  the  following  little  poem 
was  given  to  me  as  having  been  written  in  fun  by  James 
Spedding,  the  distinguished  author  of  the  Life  of  Bacon. 
I  thrilled  with  excitement  when  I  first  read  it,  which  will 
not  surprise  anyone  who  remembers  the  position  between 
youth  and  age  fifty  years  ago.  The  young  were  supposed 
to  be  foolish,  the  old  to  be  all  wisdom  and  experience. 
Now  this  is  so  changed  that  the  old  are  having  rather 
a  bad  time ;  and  the  truth  contained  in  this  poem  still 
appeals  to  me,  though  from  an  entirely  different  point  of 
view.  Whether  we  are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  children, 
or  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  have  them,  it  makes,  in  my 
opinion,  no  difference.  Once  we  have  reached  a  certain 
age,  the  sensible  thing  is  to  acknowledge  that  our  lives 
are  more  or  less  over.  The  best  way  we  can  then  serve 
our  country,  or  give  dignity  and  happiness  to  our  old  age, 
is  to  lend  all  the  help  in  our  power  to  the  young — in  fact, 
always  to  be  ready  to  open  the  door  to  those  who  are 
knocking. 


THE  ANTIQUITY  OF  MAN 

When  I  was  a  freshman,  old  age  did  appear 

A  reverend  and  beautiful  thing ; 
For  knowledge  must  gather  as  year  follows  year, 

And  wisdom  from  knowledge  should  spring. 


SONS  275 

But  I  found  the  same  years  that  supplied  me  with 
knowledge 

Took  the  power  to  digest  it  away, 
And  let  out  all  the  store  I  had  gathered  at  college 

Through  leaks  that  increased  every  day. 

So  I  said— and  think  not  I  said  it  in  jest 

(You  will  find  it  is  true  to  the  letter) — 
That  the  only  thing  old  people  ought  to  know  best 

Is  that  young  people  ought  to  know  better. 


T2 


276     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 


FUENISHING 

Books  on  furnishing — Smoking — Morris's  'Lectures  on  Art' — London 
houses — New  and  second-hand  furniture — Curtains  versus  blinds 
— White  paint — Bookcases — Bed-rooms — Bath-rooms — Bedding 
— Useful  tables— Kain-water. 

I  MUST  give  you  a  few  of  my  views  about  furnishing, 
especially  as  I  cannot  say  to  you,  '  Get  such-and-such  a 
book,  and  you  will  know  all  I  know.'  I  can  name  no  book 
that  seems  to  me  at  all  satisfactory  on  modern  furnishing. 
One  published  in  1887  and  called  '  From  Kitchen  to 
Garret,'  by  J.  E.  Panton,  has  gone  through  many 
editions,  and  contains  useful  and  practical  hints,  but  I  do 
not  at  all  agree  with  a  good  deal  that  it  says.  It  recom- 
mends what  I  call  upholstering  far  too  much,  and  the 
overcrowding  and  decorating  of  rooms,  and  is  not  nearly 
simple  enough.  I  should  say  to  any  young  housekeeper, 
*  Get  the  book  and  learn  what  you  can  from  it,  but  reserve 
to  yourself  a  very  keen  judgment  about  many  things  that 
it  advises.'  As  an  example,  I  will  mention  that  the 
author  grudges  a  man,  as  a  matter  of  expense  (!),  his 
cigarette  and  cigar.  I  know  no  one  single  thing  that 
gives  a  woman  half  the  pleasure  that  smoking  gives  a 
man ;  so,  as  an  economy,  many  things  in  a  house  might  be 
given  up  first.  If  smoking  is  supposed  to  be  bad  for  a 
man,  persuade  him  to  smoke  less ;  and  I  believe  there  is  no 
better  way  of  inducing  him  to  do  this  than  to  allow  him  to 
smoke  in  every  room  in  the  house — drawing-room,  dining- 
room,  mother's  bedroom,  nursery.  There  is  no  greater 


FURNISHING  277 

proof  that  a  house  is  kept  sweet  and  aired,  and  therefore 
healthy,  than  the  fact  that  no  room  ever  smells  of  tobacco. 
After  many  years'  experience  in  all  sorts  of  houses,  small 
and  large,  country  and  town,  I  can  vouch  for  it  that  no 
house  ever  does  smell  of  smoke,  if  cigarettes,  cigars,  and 
pipes  are  allowed  everywhere,  provided  only  that  a 
thorough  draught  can  be  got  through  the  rooms.  I  well 
know  how  sensitive  some  people  are  about  tobacco,  but  it 
is  wonderful  how  much  this  dislike  can  be  overcome  by 
custom  and  a  desire  to  do  so.  A  smoking-room  other- 
wise than  as  a  man's  general  room,  where  he  can  read  and 
write,  is,  I  think,  a  very  objectionable  thing,  and  con- 
ducive to  a  great  waste  of  time.  Let  a  man  smoke 
during  his  employments,  and  not  look  upon  smoking  as 
an  occupation  in  itself.  People  should  guard  against  the 
sentiment  of  the  cheerful  country  hostess  who  received 
her  guest  with  '  This  is  Liberty  Hall ;  you  can  smoke  in 
the  garden.' 

Another  book,  called  '  How  to  be  Happy  though 
Married  '  (Fisher  Unwin),  has  had  an  immense  sale,  and 
is  a  much  cleverer,  better-written  book  than  its  rather 
flippant  title  might  lead  one  to  suppose.  I  strongly  re- 
commend it  to  young  housewives.  It  has  a  short  chapter 
on  furnishing,  with  which  I  cordially  agree,  and  much  in 
the  book  is  well  worth  reading  and  remembering. 

Mr.  William  Morris's  '  Lectures  on  Art,'  published  in 
1881,  helped  me  more  than  any  other  book  I  know ;  it 
cultivated  my  ideas  and  refined  my  taste.  The  first  time 
I  went  to  Mr.  Morris's  old  shop  in  Queen's  Square,  quite 
as  a  girl,  it  was  indeed  a  revelation.  It  had  the  effect  of 
a  sudden  opening  of  a  window  in  a  dark  room.  All  was 
revealed — the  beauty  of  simplicity,  the  usefulness  of  form, 
the  fascination  of  design,  and  the  charm  of  delicate  colour. 
Added  to  this,  came  the  appreciation  of  the  things  that 
had  gone  before,  and  which  in  my  time  had  been  hidden 


278  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

away.     I  came  back  to  the  various  houses  to  which  I  had 
been  accustomed  with  a  sigh  of  despair  ;  but  the  first  step 
towards  progress  must  always  be  discontent  with  what 
one  has  and  with  one's  own  ignorance.     It  has  sometimes 
been  a  sorrow  to  me  to  see,  in  the  Oxford  Street  shop, 
that  even  Mr.  Morris  did  not  keep  up  entirely  the  high 
and  simple  standard  of  his  early  years.     He  has  some 
golden  rules  in  the  lecture  called  '  The  Beauty  of  Life,' 
perhaps  the  truest  and  most  concise  of  which  is  one  that 
none  of  us  really  act  up  to  :  '  Have  nothing  in  your  houses 
that  you  do  not  know  to  be  useful  or  believe  to  be 
beautiful.'     What  would  happen  to  the  great  mass  of 
modern  wedding-presents  if  we  really  carried   out  this 
rule  ?     Mr.  Morris  preaches  the  sternest  simplicity,  and 
I  must  say,  as  a  mental  effort,  I  think  we  ought  to  try 
and  agree  with  him ;  though  rooms,  to  my  mind,  should 
look  warm  and  comfortable,  and   simplicity  had  better 
consist  in  an  absence  of  rubbish  than  in  a  diminution  of 
comfort.     Mr.  Morris  goes  on  to  explain  what  he  means 
by  a  simple  sitting-room  :  '  First,  a  bookcase  with  a  great 
many  books  in  it;   next,  a  table  that  will  keep  steady 
when  you  write  or  work  at  it ;   then  several  chairs  that 
you  can  move,  and  a  bench  that  you  can  sit  or  lie  upon ; 
next,  a   cupboard  with  drawers;  next,  unless  the  book- 
case or  the  cupboard  be  very  beautiful  with  painting  or 
carving,  you  will  want  pictures  or  engravings   such  as 
you  can  afford — only  not  stop-gaps,  but  real  works  of  art 
— on  the  wall ;  or  else  the  wall  itself  must  be  ornamented 
with  some  beautiful  and  restful  pattern.     We  shall  also 
want  a  vase  or  two  to  put  flowers  in,  which  latter  you 
must  have  sometimes,  especially  if  you  live  in  a  town. 
Then  there  will  be  the  fireplace,  of  course,  which  in  our 
climate  is  bound  to  be  the  chief  object  in  the  room. 

f  That  is  all  we  shall  want,  especially  if  the  floor  be 
good ;  if  it  is  not — as,  by  the  way,  in  a  modern  house  it  is 


FURNISHING  279 

pretty  well  certain  not  to  be — I  admit  that  a  small  carpet 
which  can  be  bundled  out  of  the  room  in  two  minutes  will 
be  useful :  and  we  must  also  take  care  that  it  is  beautiful, 
or  it  will  annoy  us  terribly.  Now,  unless  we  are 
musical  and  need  a  piano,  in  which  case,  as  far  as  beauty 
is  concerned,  we  are  in  a  bad  way,  that  is  quite  all  we 
want,  and  we  can  add  very  little  to  these  necessaries 
without  troubling  ourselves  and  hindering  our  work,  our 
thought,  and  our  rest.'  After  this  description,  think  how 
very  rare  it  is  to  see  a  room  on  these  lines  at  all.  One  of 
the  most  disfiguring  and  vulgar  forms  of  modern 
ornamentation  is  sticking  about  quantities  of  photographs 
— masses  of  men  and  women  of  our  acquaintance,  or 
royalties  and  celebrities.  I  do  not  mean  that  we  should 
not  have  one  or  two  framed  photographs,  of  dear  friends  or 
relations  ;  for  certainly,  in  a  small  degree,  photographs  of 
those  we  love  do  fulfil  Dr.  Johnson's  description  of 
portrait-painting  :  '  That  art  which  is  employed  in  diffus- 
ing friendship,  in  reviving  tenderness,  in  quickening  the 
affections  of  the  absent  and  continuing  the  presence  of 
the  dead.' 

Mr.  Morris  spoke  of  the  fireplace  as  such  an  im- 
portant thing  in  our  climate ;  it  is  so  indeed.  One  of  the 
first  essentials  is  that  it  should  not  smoke  or  be  ugly,  and 
another  is  that  it  should  give  out  much  heat  with  little 
consumption  of  coal.  I  consider  the  greatest  increase  of 
delight  possible  in  any  kind  of  fireplace,  no  matter  of  what 
size  or  make,  is  to  have  a  very  broad  hearth  of  tiles,  or 
bricks,  or  stone,  or  marble,  or  anything  of  that  sort  that  is 
hard  and  fireproof,  and  then  do  away  with  every  form  of 
fender  or  raised  rim  round  the  hearth.  People  have  an 
idea  that  this  is  not  safe ;  but  that  is  an  entire  mistake. 
To  be  able  to  stand  easily  on  the  hot  tiles  is  an  immense 
joy  added  to  life,  and  one  much  appreciated  by  men. 
Even  for  children  instead  of  tumbling  over  the  low  fender, 


28o     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

which  is  a  real  danger,  they  soon  feel  the  heat,  and  that 
warns  them  to  keep  away  from  the  hearth.  But  it  is 
essential  that  the  hearth  should  be  wider  than  is  usual, 
both  for  appearance  and  safety ;  and  if  a  finish  is  thought 
desirable  between  the  tiles  and  the  floor,  a  flat  band,  three 
or  four  inches  wide,  of  brass  or  iron  looks  very  well — but 
it  is  not  necessary.  The  fire-irons  should  be  on  a  stand 
apart,  or  put  against  the  chimneypiece  on  hooks,  or  in  a 
hoop  of  iron  or  brass.  Nothing,  of  course,  supersedes  the 
high  wire  fender  for  safety  in  nurseries  and  schoolrooms. 
White  tiles  as  a  lining  for  the  sides,  grates,  and  hearths  of 
fireplaces  are  not  often  used,  but  to  my  mind  they  are  far 
prettier  than  dark  tiles,  if  the  chimneypiece  is  made  of 
light-coloured  marble  or  white  wood,  as  is  so  common. 
The  adapting  and  improving  of  what  we  find  in  builders' 
houses  is  one  of  our  modern  difficulties. 

Mr.  Morris  is  severe  on  pianos,  and  it  must  be 
admitted  they  are  very  ugly,  but  great  attention  is  now 
being  given  to  improving  them.  One  simple  inexpensive 
way  of  doing  so  is  to  have  the  case  very  plain ;  the 
music-desk  plain  bars,  instead  of  ornamental  fret-work ; 
and  the  whole  left  absolutely  without  varnish  or  polish. 
The  housemaid's  rubbing  only  improves  the  marking  on 
the  grain  of  the  wood. 

In  London  everything  ought  to  be  sacrificed  to  sweet- 
ness and  light.  Let  no  one  put  on  their  walls  or  their 
floors  that  which  they  cannot  afford  constantly  to  renew. 
In  an  ordinary  London  house,  merely  keeping  things 
clean  one  year  with  another,  inside  and  out,  adds  a  con- 
siderable sum  yearly  to  the  rent. 

I  have  found  it  very  clean  and  useful  to  wash  the 
corners  and  sides  of  the  window-panes  with  Sanitas, 
especially  in  the  country  in  spring.  It  destroys  the  eggs 
of  flies  and  insects  of  all  kinds,  and  in  no  way  injures  the 
paint.  It  saves  waste  to  lay  on  the  Sanitas  with  a  brush. 


FURNISHING  281 

In  London  nowadays  the  houses  of  the  young  are 
freshly  done  up  and  clean  and  healthy.  Where  I  find  the 
greatest  sanitary  neglect  is  in  the  homes  of  the  middle- 
aged,  especially  those  who  have  lived  long  in  one  place. 
Even  in  the  houses  of  rich  and  well-to-do  people,  in 
London,  the  dirt  in  the  upstairs  rooms  and  passages  is 
inconceivable.  The  mistress  of  the  house  is  lazy  or  in- 
different ;  and  as  we  get  older,  the  years  run  on  so  quickly 
it  is  impossible  to  realise  how  long  it  is  since  the 
last  cleaning;  nothing  is  ever  looked  over,  replaced,  or 
renewed.  A  favourite  economy,  and  one  to  which  the 
best  of  housekeepers  have  a  tendency,  is  to  put  old 
carpets  out  of  dining-rooms  or  drawing-rooms  into  bed- 
rooms of  boys  and  girls,  often  without  even  going  to  the 
expense  of  having  them  cleaned.  The  painted  floor  and 
a  small  piece  of  new  drugget,  clean  and  sweet,  would  be 
infinitely  more  healthy  and  more  appropriate.  Another 
constantly  neglected  corner  is  what  is  called  the  house- 
maid's closet.  In  houses  where  servants  are  not  much 
looked  after,  and  even  where  they  are,  this  is  often  the 
glory-hole  of  dirt.  I  recommend  the  use  of  the  white 
enamel  slop-pails,  which  are  so  infinitely  easier  to  keep 
clean  than  the  old  painted  tin  ones,  though  they,  too,  are 
quite  clean  if  they  are  only  repainted  often  enough.  The 
whole  system  of  living  and  housekeeping  in  England  is 
still  sacrificed  far  too  much  to  show — large  sitting-rooms, 
small  bed-rooms,  and  unclean  attics.  However,  things 
are  infinitely  better  than  they  used  to  be.  In  the  last 
century  one  or  two  footmen  used  to  sleep  on  mattresses  in 
the  front  hall  of  the  crowded  little  houses  in  Mayfair; 
and  even  in  my  childhood  the  custom  of  putting  three  or 
four  men  or  women  into  one  room  was  quite  a  usual  thing. 

To  those  about  to  furnish  I  would  say,  '  Never  buy  new 
things  when  you  can  get  them  second-hand.'  Procure  an 
ordinary  illustrated  price  list  from  one  of  the  large 


282     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

furnishing  shops,  and  with  that,  by  which  to  test  prices, 
go  to  second-hand  shops  and  sales.  If  you  get  a  well- 
made  second-hand  piece  of  furniture  that  you  really 
want  for  the  same  price  as,  or  cheaper  than,  you  could 
buy  painted  or  varnished  deal — well,  you  know  you 
have  not  done  badly.  If  you  buy  an  old  bookcase,  or 
table,  or  sofa,  for  even  a  little  more  than  you  would 
give  for  the  inferior  modern  ones,  you  may  still  congratu- 
late yourself. 

The  only  marked  difference  that  I  can  see  between 
my  house  and  most  others,  both  in  the  country  and  in 
London,  is  that  I  never  have  a  roller  blind.  They  are 
expensive  to  put  up,  expensive  to  maintain,  and  very 
difficult  to  keep  clean  in  London.  I  never  have  them 
in  my  own  rooms,  in  bed-rooms  or  servants'  rooms,  in 
the  stable  or  gardener's  cottage.  What  I  do  have  is  an 
inner  curtain  hung  from  a  small  rod  on  the  window.  It 
can  be  made  of  any  variety  of  material,  to  suit  the 
different  windows  and  the  requirements  of  the  room — 
thin  silk  (the  effects  of  light  through  silk — orange,  red, 
yellow,  or  green — are  very  pretty),  chintz,  muslin,  or  the 
thickest  dark  blue  or  green  twill  lined  with  calico,  to  keep 
out  light  in  the  bedrooms  in  the  country  (in  London  I 
think  light  blue  or  green  twill  unlined  is  sufficient) ;  and 
the  most  useful  of  all  is  the  common  red  Turkey  twill, 
lined  or  unlined,  which  washes  year  after  year,  and  always 
looks  fresh,  clean,  and  bright,  and  practically  never  wears 
out.  In  many  modern  windows  these  inner  curtains  enable 
you  to  dispense  with  heavy  outside  curtains  altogether — to 
my  mind  an  advantage,  as  drawn  curtains  almost  always 
make  a  room  stuffy  and  nearly  as  airless  as  did  the 
shutters  of  our  forefathers.  All  the  same,  thick  curtains 
are,  of  course,  required  in  the  country  in  winter  for 
warmth.  For  an  outside  effect  in  London,  it  is  very 
pretty  if  the  wood  of  the  window  is  painted  dark  or  light 


FURNISHING  283 

green,  red,  or  blue,  and  if  the  silk  curtains  inside  are  of 
the  same  colour  to  match  the  paint. 

On  first  doing  up  a  house,  keep  as  many  rooms  as  you 
can  plainly  whitewashed  ('  white  distemper  '  it  is  call ed) , 
but  see  that  it  is  white,  and  not  mixed  with  black,  blue,  or 
yellow,  such  as  painters  delight  in  using.  I  think  every- 
thing looks  well  against  a  white  wall.  Covering  a  wall 
with  coarse  canvas  and  then  distempering  it  gives  a 
variety  to  the  surface.  Some  people  think  white  walls 
unbecoming.  I  cannot  agree  with  this.  What  suits  the 
rose  and  the  tulip  as  a  background  ought  to  suit  a 
pretty  woman  in  her  pretty  clothes.  In  a  white  room 
dark  furniture  never  looks  heavy  (not  even  the  darkest 
oak),  and  light  furniture  never  looks  poor.  But  white  rooms 
must  be  kept  clean,  as  ceilings  are.  This  necessity  is  a 
great  merit,  and  renewing  is  not  expensive.  [If  staircases 
or  passages  are  white-washed,  a  dado,  about  a  yard  deep 
up  the  side  of  the  staircase  and  along  the  passage,  of 
frilled  cretonne,  twilled  red  calico,  or  anything  cheap,  is 
an  excellent  way  of  protecting  the  wall  from  all  the  many 
injuries  that  happen  to  it.  If  you  like,  you  can  have  one 
such  dado  for  winter  and  one  for  summer,  and  they  can 
be  washed  or  cleaned.  They  look  best  frilled  onto  a  thin 
lath  of  wood  which  pulls  out.  Rings  are  sewn  on  the 
back  for  hanging  the  curtain  onto  nails  or  hooks  screwed 
into  the  wall  at  intervals.]  If  the  wall  is  soft,  another 
thin  lath  of  wood  must  be  nailed  to  it  to  hold  the  screws. 

In  a  white  room  a  small  piece  of  good  drapery  or  old 
leather  hung  on  the  wall  looks  well,  or  even  a  few  yards 
of  very  superior  paper  may  be  put  in  one  place — between 
windows,  over  a  chimney-piece,  behind  a  picture,  above  a 
table,  or  under  a  bookcase.  This  form  of  decoration  was 
the  common  one  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries, 
and  was,  in  fact,  the  way  in  which  tapestry  came  to  be 
used.  In  the  old  French  chdteaux  of  Touraine  the 


284    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY  GARDEN 

hooks  that  held  these  draperies,  silks  from  Italy,  and  no 
doubt  many  other  things,  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  walls. 
As  the  French  Court  moved  from  chateau  to  chateau,  all 
this  material  moved  with  them. 

If  bookcases  can  be  made  to  order,  they  are  much 
better  raised  a  certain  height  on  the  wall.  This  is  more 
convenient,  as  grubbing  on  the  floor  for  the  book  one 
wants  is  very  tiresome.  Besides,  in  this  way  you  can 
have  the  large  books  at  the  top,  with  a  wide  shelf  above 
them,  and  the  small  ones  below,  the  shelves  gradually 
diminishing  both  in  height  and  depth  from  the  wall. 
Mr.  Morris  advocates,  in  his  lectures,  the  painting  of 
deal ;  the  only  other  way  of  treating  it  is  simply  to  oil  it. 
Mr.  Morris,  I  think,  says  nothing  about  painting  the 
floors.  But  that  seems  to  me  the  best  solution  ;  at  any 
rate,  for  three  feet  round  the  room — red,  green,  black,  and 
above  all  white  as  often  as  you  like,  especially  for  bed- 
rooms. Nothing  is  so  clean,  the  paint  wants  no  scrub- 
bing and  no  soda ;  tepid  water  and  a  cloth  make  every- 
thing as  clean  as  new.  Staining,  though  a  little  cheaper? 
wears  less  well,  will  not  wash,  and  looks  common. 
Indian  matting  and  felt  look  well  in  the  country,  but 
are  not  so  clean  in  London.  Both  collect  the  black 
dust,  and  the  former  cannot  be  taken  up.  You  want  to 
be  really  rich  to  have  polished  floors  of  oak  or  teak. 
English  housemaids  cannot  clean  them,  abroad  it  is 
always  done  by  men.  In  London  it  has  to  be  done  by 
an  upholsterer  two  or  three  times  a  year. 

If  economy  is  an  object  in  furnishing,  one  of  the  best 
ways  of  reducing  the  outlay  in  bed-rooms  is  by  dispensing 
with  the  modern  washing-stands.  The  old-fashioned  ones 
are  often  too  small  for  comfort ;  our  ancestors  cleaned 
themselves  with  little  room  and  less  water.  A  large 
unvarnished  deal  table  with  the  legs  painted  to  suit  the 
room  is  what  I  recommend.  For  cheapness  it  can  be 


FURNISHING  285 

covered  with  white  oil- cloth,  nailed  down ;  though  I  prefer 
a  thick  white  dimity  cloth,  which  can  be  washed  as  often 
as  necessary.  For  a  luxurious  washing-table,  plain 
coloured  square  tiles,  sunk  into  a  bed  of  cement  and  held 
firm  by  a  metal  band,  make  a  delightful  surface.  A  great 
addition  both  to  comfort  and  tidiness  in  all  bed-rooms  is 
to  have  a  small  or  large  cupboard,  or  curtained  shelves  (for 
bottles,  &c.)  above  the  washing-stand.  A  couple  of  shelves 
at  the  head  of  the  bed  is  the  best  place  for  a  bookshelf  in 
a  bed-room.  It  is  such  a  pleasure,  morning  or  night,  to 
be  able  to  reach,  without  having  to  get  out  of  bed,  the 
book  that  suits  one's  mood. 

Modern  London  builders  have  a  most  irritating  way  of 
repeating,  in  house  after  house,  the  most  obvious  defects. 
One  of  the  worst  of  these  is  the  bath  :  a  large  tin  surface 
indifferently  painted,  which  is  quickly  injured  by  the  hot 
water,  surrounded  by  a  mahogany  rim,  the  varnish  of 
which  is  spotted  and  marked  by  every  accessory  necessary 
to  the  bath.  One  can  hardly  imagine  anything  more 
inappropriate.  Doulton  has  invented  a  glazed  earthen- 
ware bath  which  obviates  all  these  objections,  and  would 
be  more  luxurious  if  the  floor  of  the  bath-room  were 
raised  nearly  to  the  height  of  its  rim  ;  the  steps  to  reach 
this  raised  floor  could  be  outside  the  room,  or  inside, 
according  to  the  hanging  of  the  door.  One  of  the  minor 
luxuries  of  life,  often  not  found  in  the  largest  houses,  is 
to  have  really  hot  water  when  you  expect  it.  I  have 
found  that  large  cosies — the  shape  of  tea-cosies — to  go 
over  the  hot-water  cans  (one  for  the  little  can  and  one  for 
the  big),  easily  bring  this  luxury  within  the  reach  of 
everybody.  They  are  made  of  chintz,  or  of  any  stuff  that 
comes  handy  and  suits  the  room,  lined  with  sateen  to 
tone  with  or  contrast  with  the  outside,  and  thickly 
wadded.  If  the  water  is  put  in  really  hot,  and  the  cosies 
are  thick  and  large  enough  to  cover  the  can  entirely,  the 


286  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

water  will  keep  hot  till  the  morning.  This,  of  course,  is 
doubly  useful  when  there  are  no  fires. 

With  all  my  recommendations  about  buying  second- 
hand furniture,  of  course  I  do  not  mean  to  include  bedding. 
I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to  think  that  mattresses  had 
always  better  come,  though  more  expensive,  from  the  best 
shops.  If  my  general  advice  is  to  furnish  simply,  this 
applies  doubly  to  nurseries  and  bed-rooms.  In  fact,  these 
rooms  should  be  of  such  a  kind  that  if  the  surgeon  or 
nurse  entered  them  with  a  view  to  an  operation,  they 
would  wish  nothing  altered — distempered  walls,  white 
or  coloured,  grave  or  gay,  as  suits  the  taste ;  no  carpets 
going  into  the  corners,  but  broad  margins  of  painted 
wood,  white  is  the  best.  '  Oh,  it  shows  the  dirt  so ! ' 
says  the  upholsterer  or  builder.  '  So  much  the  better,' 
should  the  owner  of  the  house  answer ;  '  the  dirt  shown 
on  white  is  harmless  and  clean  compared  to  the  dirt 
hidden  by  dark  colours.'  The  curtains  should  be  of 
the  smallest  and  simplest  kind,  hung  on  a  brass  or  iron 
rod,  merely  to  keep  out  light  or  to  make  warmth ;  they 
should  never  reach  to  the  ground,  unless  the  window 
does. 

It  is  a  serviceable  and  clean  plan  to  sew  strips  of 
holland  or  chintz,  which  can  be  removed  and  washed,  on 
to  the  edge  of  the  mattresses ;  this  prevents  the  house- 
maid's hands  from  dirtying  them.  I  remember  the  day 
when  all  beds  were  covered  with  what  are  called  counter- 
panes, which  were  even  left  on  at  night.  But  these  now 
are  universally  acknowledged  to  be  unwholesome,  and,  for 
the  daytime,  they  have  been  superseded  by  some  coloured 
coverlid.  I  like  this  coverlid,  which  keeps  the  blankets 
clean  by  day,  and  is  folded  up  by  night,  to  be  the  hand- 
somest feature  in  the  room,  though  its  material  may  vary 
from  the  cheapest  twill  or  cretonne  to  the  richest  needle- 
work or  damask- silk,  old  or  modern.  The  walls  can 


FURNISHING  287 

always  be  covered  gradually  by  framed  pictures,  photo- 
graphs, or  prints  of  all  kinds.  In  a  nursery,  the  choice 
of  these  photographs  may  make  an  impression  for  life, 
artistic  or  the  contrary.  A  young  man  once  said  to  me 
that  in  travelling  in  Italy  one  of  the  chief  joys  he  felt  in 
visiting  the  famous  galleries  was  the  recognition  of  a 
picture  that  had  been  an  old  familiar  friend  as  a  framed 
photograph  at  home.  He  added  that,  if  ever  he  had 
children,  he  thought  one  of  the  best  decorations  for 
a  nursery  would  be  a  dado  made  of  photographs,  of 
various  sizes,  of  some  of  the  masterpieces  of  the  world. 
The  difficulty  of  this  would  be  that  nurseries  must  be 
easily  cleaned  and  renewed,  and  I  think  the  photographs 
to  form  the  dado  would  have  to  be  stuck  on  to  thick 
pasteboard  or  thin  wood. 

I  would  allow  all  young  people,  both  boys  and  girls, 
as  much  as  possible  to  do  the  decorating  and  furnishing 
of  their  own  rooms,  limiting  them,  of  course,  to  the  sum 
intended  to  be  spent.  Taste  in  decorating,  as  in  all  else, 
is  a  constant  cause  of  difference,  and  what  every  person 
objects  to  most  is  what  is  to  them  old-fashioned — that  is, 
what  has  immediately  preceded  their  own  day.  f 

A  detail  of  family  life,  but  not  at  all  an  unimportant 
one  in  my  estimation,  is  the  providing  of  a  large,  firm, 
folding  table  in  the  general  sitting-room.  It  can  be  kept 
outside  or  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  should  never  remain 
open  during  the  day,  but  be  brought  out  nightly  when  the 
lamps  are  lit  and  the  curtains  are  drawn.  This  plan 
enables  every  member  of  the  family  to  have  room  for 
separate  employment.  Everyone  knows  how  crowded 
the  permanent  tables  become  in  an  habitually  used 
sitting-room.  The  use  of  an  empty  table  was  first 
suggested  to  my  mind  by  some  remarks  made  by 
Goethe  to  Bckermann  in  the  'Conversations.'  He 
strongly  recommends  bringing  out  any  good  books 


288  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

or  pictures  that  you  may  happen  to  have  to  show  your 
guests.  It  is  impossible  to  do  this  with  any  comfort 
without  a  good  roomy  table  on  which  to  spread  them . 
Showing  books  to  children  of  different  ages  often  provides 
an  excellent  topic  for  conversation,  and  even,  I  might 
say,  for  instruction ;  only  this,  I  am  afraid,  sounds  so 
very  priggish. 

A  distressing  feature  of  modern  civilisation  is  the 
utter  waste,  both  in  town  and  country,  of  the  precious 
rain-water  that  runs  off  our  houses.  It  will  be  argued 
that  in  London  it  would  be  black ;  but  it  is  not  very 
difficult  to  remedy  this — sufficiently,  at  any  rate,  for 
use  in  washing.  In  the  country  it  is  priceless.  No  well- 
cared-for  baby  ought  ever  to  be  washed  in  anything  but 
rain-water ;  and  yet,  rather  than  make  tanks,  rich  people, 
who  will  buy  every  luxury,  get  their  water  (which  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten  is  as  hard  and  full  of  chalk  as  it 
can  be)  from  the  nearest  water  company.  Eain-water  is 
even  more  essential  for  the  plants  than  for  the  baby.  I 
was  told  last  year  by  a  good  gardener,  who  had  been 
peculiarly  successful  in  growing  the  rare  and  beautiful 
Table  Mountain  Orchid,  Disa  grandiflora,  that  he 
attributed  his  success  entirely  to  keeping  it  very  moist, 
but  never  allowing  one  drop  of  water  to  go  near  it 
that  was  not  rain-water.  This  is  the  case,  in  a  minor 
degree,  with  many  other  greenhouse  and  stove  plants. 


289 


A  DAY  IN  LONDON 

Advantages  of  suburbs — London  life — Picture  exhibitions. 

PEOPLE  who  live  in  London,  and  those  who  live  in  the 
depths  of  the  country,  are  both  equally  inclined,  for  differ- 
ent reasons,  to  laugh  a  little,  and  even  sneer,  over  the  ob- 
vious disadvantages  of  suburban  residences.  By  suburban 
I  mean  more  the  character  of  the  surroundings  than  the 
actual  distance  from  London  or  any  other  large  town.  The 
more  favoured  a  place  is  as  regards  soil  and  climate,  the 
more  thickly  populated  it  becomes.  But  the  near  neigh- 
bourhood of  London  has  certainly  immense  advantages 
under  many  conditions.  For  young  couples,  if  a  man  is 
strong  and  well,  and  has  work  to  do  in  town,  it  is  the  very 
poetry  of  life  compared  to  London  itself,  and  is  a  phase  of 
existence  which  a  woman,  if  once  she  has  had  it,  always 
looks  back  upon  with  pleasure.  She  has  her  children  and 
her  duties  all  day,  and  in  the  evening  the  man  throws  off  his 
bothers  and  worries  and  comes  back  to  peace  and  happi- 
ness, rest  and  pure  air  at  home.  When  children  get  big, 
and  have  tastes  and  talents  of  their  own  which  must  be 
developed  and  educated,  there  is  certainly  much  to  be  said 
in  favour  of  moving  the  home  for  some  years  to  London. 
When  the  parents  are  no  longer  young,  and  when,  however 
friendly  they  may  be  and  proud  of  each  other,  they  have 
to  pursue  individually  their  own  lives,  and  carry  out  that 
partnership  which  is  the  only  perfect  form  of  middle- 
aged  married  life,  for  the  good  of  the  children  and  the 


290    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

general  well-being  of  the  establishment,  then  the  oneness 
of  married  life  cannot  possibly  be  carried  on  without  a 
certain  sacrifice  of  what  is  best  for  the  growing-up 
children.  But,  again,  in  the  evening  of  life,  when  friends 
gradually  fall  away,  and  we  become  rather  a  duty  and 
perhaps  even  a  slight  burden  to  our  children  and 
relations,  who  have  their  own  lives  to  attend  to,  I 
consider  that  residing  in  the  suburbs  solves,  once  more, 
a  great  many  of  the  difficulties  of  our  complicated  family 
existence.  Our  children  can  easily  visit  us,  and,  if  we 
are  not  too  old,  we  can  so  well  go  to  London  for  duty  or 
pleasure,  and  in  this  way  see,  and  hear,  and  learn  all  that 
is  going  on.  If  all  this  is  true,  as  I  think  it  is,  we  are 
saved,  without  actually  living  in  London,  from  the 
reproach  that,  being  buried  in  the  country,  we  let  our- 
selves go,  and  grow  old  prematurely.  To  be  an  easy 
distance  from  town,  though  saying  this  may  seem  rather 
a  drop  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous,  certainly  helps 
us  to  cultivate  the  enjoyment  of  Nature,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  gives  us  the  opportunity,  if  we  have  the 
power  in  however  slight  a  degree,  of  acquiring  knowledge 
for  its  own  sake  without  regard  to  its  practical  applica- 
tion. Surely  these  are  the  only  two  perfect  sources  of 
human  happiness?  I  do  not  say  this  thoughtlessly. 
Love,  in  all  its  forms,  gives  a  far  intenser  happiness,  but 
even  in  its  purest  form — parental  love — it  is  accompanied 
by  anxiety  and  doubt.  It  begins  with  a  kind  of  animal 
enjoyment,  and  ends  in  the  practising  of  continual  self- 
denial. 

Much  as  I  dislike  leaving  my  garden,  yesterday  I 
obeyed  the  summons  of  my  oldest  friend  to  spend  the 
day  in  London  with  her ;  and  certainly  it  turned  out  an 
example  of  what  I  have  been  saying — so  much  so,  that 
I  yield  to  the  temptation  of  giving  a  slight  account  of  it. 
We  spent  our  time  in  visiting  Burlington  House,  and  I 


A  DAY   IN   LONDON  291 

will  tell  you  what  struck  us  most  as  we  wandered 
through  the  rooms  there,  in  the  way  we  used  to  do  at  the 
old  Academy  in  Trafalgar  Square,  when  we  were  young 
and  enthusiastic.  First,  I  took  my  friend  to  the  work  that  I 
admired  most,  which,  I  believe,  will  no  more  die  in  the  gene- 
rations to  come  than  that  of  either  Eaphael  or  Benvenuto 
Cellini  has  died,  though  it  will  be  more  or  less  admired  ac- 
cording to  the  fashion  of  the  day.  Mr.  Gilbert,  the  sculp- 
tor, is  in  my  opinion  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses  we  have 
amongst  us  just  now,  and  his  exhibited  work  in  1896  shows 
with  peculiar  force  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  talent. 
Is  not  the  stretch  between  the  massive,  splendid  portrait- 
bust  of  Professor  Owen,  and  the  exquisitely  finished,  subtle, 
little  full-length  figure  of  St.  George,  all  that  the  Colossus 
of  Ehodes  could  boast — a  foot  on  either  shore  ?  With  the 
assertiveness  of  the  true  artist  he  must  have  insisted  on  the 
hiding  of  the  hideous  colour  on  the  walls,  and  hung  a  piece 
of  yellow-brown  drapery,  which  harmonises  splendidly 
with  his  plaster  cast.  We  crossed  the  room  to  look  at  the 
least  remarkable  work  of  the  three,  perhaps,  artistically 
speaking ;  and  yet  how  the  bust  of  Sir  George  Grove 
stands  out  and  lives,  and  almost  breathes,  compared  with 
the  cold  dead  heads  that  surround  it !  It  has  not  the 
colour  of  life  nor  the  vulgar  realism  of  waxwork,  but  the 
plain  chalk  cast  is  a  man  of  flesh  and  blood,  rugged  and 
strong.  Then  we  went  back  to  the  St.  George,  and 
enjoyed  it  for  ten  minutes.  Perhaps  we  shall  never  see 
again  its  exquisite  beauty — the  little  hands  that  express 
so  much  feeling ;  the  sad,  gentle  face,  almost  mourning 
over  the  worthlessness  of  human  greatness,  though  the 
dead  dragon  lies  coiled  about  his  feet,  and  the  princess  is 
to  be  his  bride !  Look  at  the  cross-handled  sword,  and 
the  helmet,  and  the  armour,  and  think  of  all  it  means,  in 
these  days  of  cheap  work,  to  put  all  that  is  here  into  one 
small  figure,  which  is,  after  all,  only  a  portion  of  a  railing 

TT2 


292    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY  GARDEN 

round  a  dead  young  prince's  effigy,  to  be  hidden  away 
for  ever  in  a  cool,  dim  chapel.  We  who  studied  the 
little  statuette  are  not  likely  to  forget  it,  for,  as  a  poet 
said  of  his  friend : — 

.    .    .     Some,  in  whom  such  images  are  strong, 
Have  hoarded  the  impression  in  their  heart, 

Fancy's  fond  dreams  and  memory's  joys  among, 

Like  some  loved  relic  of  romantic  song, 
Or  cherished  masterpiece  of  ancient  art. 

As  we  passed  back  into  the  picture  rooms  we  were 
pleased  to  see  that  Lord  Leighton's  last  work  apparently 
gains  so  immensely  by  being  unfinished ;  and  it  is  in  the 
manner  of  his  youth  rather  than  of  his  age,  rich  and 
harmonious  in  colour,  passionate  in  sentiment — to  be 
looked  at  by  those  who  knew  him,  this  ideal  President 
of  our  Academy  of  Painting,  with  '  thoughts  which  only 
upon  tears  can  rise.'  Far  the  most  striking  portraits  in 
the  Academy  are,  alas!  by  non-Englishmen — Mr.  Sar- 
gent, who  is  an  American,  and  M.  Benjamin  Constant, 
who  is  a  Frenchman.  Mr.  Sargent's  'Portrait  of  a 
Lady  '  is  surely  consummate  :  the  painting  of  the  pearls, 
the  smart,  bright-coloured  cape,  are  not  to  be  beaten  by 
Vandyck  at  his  best ;  and  oh !  how  far  beyond  any  effort 
even  of  the  old  masters  is  the  sad  pathos  of  that  interest- 
ing nineteenth-century  face  !  Can  we  look  at  it  and  not 
say  with  Balzac,  '  Les  drames  de  la  vie  ne  sont  pas  dans 
les  circonstances,  Us  sont  dans  le  cceur '  ?  It  seems 
rather  the  fashion  not  to  admire  Mr.  Chamberlain's  por- 
trait, and  it  is  not  quite  so  finished,  especially  the  hands,  as 
one  would  wish — doubtless  for  want  of  time  being  given 
for  the  sittings;  all  the  same,  it  is  a  grand  portrait  of 
a  history-making  Late  Victorian  statesman,  and  will  be 
looked  at  with  reverent  curiosity  by  the  student  of  the 
future. 

And  now  we  pass  on  through  two  or  three  rooms, 


A   DAY   IN   LONDON  293 

avoiding  what  we  do  not  like -when  not  able  to  fix  our 
eyes  on  what  we  do,  which  is  the  acquired  knack  of  the 
habitual  haunter  of  galleries  and  exhibitions,  and  sit  down 
quietly  to  study  Mr.  Abbey's  most  remarkable  picture  of 
Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  and  the  Lady  Anne. 

Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  woo'd  ? 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humour  won  ? 

And  the  more  we  looked,  the  more  we  studied,  the 
more  remarkable  the  picture  appeared  to  us.  The  young, 
angry,  and  yet  wicked  face  under  the  strange  headdress, 
the  nervous  clasp  of  the  left  hand,  while  the  right  seizes 
the  black  veil,  true  to  the  instinct  of  some  women,  who, 
in  the  moment  of  their  greatest  joy  or  deepest  grief, 
never  forget  their  clothes!  Eichard,  with  his  winning 
courtesy  and  the  bow  which  conceals  the  defects  of  his 
figure,  in  his  red  clothes,  is  a  strange  contrast  to  that 
other  figure  which  we  know,  rather  than  see,  lies  stiff  and 
cold  behind  the  guards.  Historically,  perhaps,  Richard 
looks  a  little  old,  as  he  was  but  thirty-five  when  killed  on 
Bosworth  field.  The  guards,  the  crowd,  the  varied  ex- 
pressions fading  actually  away  into  the  canvas,  are  very 
fine.  The  painting  reminds  one  of  the  old  Germans,  and 
yet  is  entirely  original.  Is  it  not  indeed  in  Art  what 
'Esmond'  is  in  literature — an  old  story  told  in  an  old 
manner,  and  yet  without  absolute  mimicry  of  anything  ? 

And  so  the  two  old  friends  of  forty  years  wandered  on 
and  began  to  get  tired,  when  we  met  an  acquaintance, 
and  she  said,  '  Have  you  seen  the  picture  that  Mr.  Watts 
in  his  generosity  says  is  better  painted  than  anything  he 
ever  did?'  'No,  where  is  it?  What  is  it?'  '"The 
Leper's  Wife,"  by  George  Harcourt,  in  the  eleventh  room.' 
And  so  on  we  went  with  renewed  strength  into  this 
honoured  eleventh  room,  and  stood  before  one  of  the  most 
dramatic  and  moving  of  modern  pictures  A  splendid 


294    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

young  woman,  of  five-and-twenty  or  so,  clothed  in  bright 
red,  rushes  with  her  face  towards  you  through  a  wood, 
with  outstretched  arms,  her  face  glowing  with  love  and 
devotion,  and  her  lips  parted;  behind  her  are  great 
banks  of  cumuli,  sanguine-stained  from  the  setting  sun, 
and  the  stems  of  the  trees  glow  with  the  same  light. 
Pure,  small,  white  wood-flowers  grow  about  her  feet.  All 
this  to  represent  the  joy  and  the  pride  of  life,  which  she 
willingly  leaves  to  join  her  leper  husband,  who  stands  in 
the  dark  shadow  of  his  humble  hut,  clothed  from  head  to 
foot  in  grey  leper  draperies,  slightly  recalling  Mr.  Watts's 
own  beautiful  figure  of  '  Love  and  Death ' — the  head 
turned  away,  and  the  hand  upheld  forbidding  her 
approach,  unable  to  appreciate  the  love  she  brings  him, 
or  loving  her  too  well  to  allow  of  any  risk  for  her  sake, 
though  she  cries  :  '  Kiss  me,  in  the  name  of  the  everlasting 
God !  I  will  live  and  die  with  you ! '  The  sacrifice 
could  bring  him  no  joy ;  and  so  it  will  ever  be,  not  only 
to  the  leper — for  the  love  of  men  is  not  as  the  love  of 
women. 

It  seems  impossible  anyone  should  share  our  ignor- 
ance, so  I  will  merely  state  that  as  the  two  old  friends, 
who  had  led  such  different  lives,  stood  entranced  before 
the  picture,  we  neither  of  us  knew  it  was  the  illustration 
of  a  poem  called  '  Happy,  or  The  Leper's  Bride/  in 
Tennyson's  last  volume,  'Demeter  and  Other  Poems.' 
He  gives  in  a  note  an  interesting  account  of  the  decision 
of  the  Church,  in  the  twelfth  century,  that  marriage  was 
indissoluble,  and  that  the  lepers'  wives  might  rejoin  their 
husbands  if  they  liked. 

Once  more  overcome  with  fatigue,  we  sat  down  on 
a  bench,  to  rest  before  leaving,  when  a  wonderful  little 
maiden  passed,  cleanly  but  very  poorly  dressed  for  these 
days,  with  beautifully  and  yet  fashionably  dressed  hair,  and 
far-away  dreamy  eyes.  '  That,  no  doubt,  is  a  young  artist 


A  DAY   IN   LONDON  295 

treading  the  Asphodel  meadows  of  her  youth.'  My 
friend  answered,  '  I  daresay  it  is  true.  Let  us  tell  her  of 
the  picture  we  have  enjoyed  so  much ; '  and  running  after 
her  she  brought  her  back,  all  smiles,  saying  to  me,  '  This 
lady  is  not  an  artist,  as  we  thought,  but  the  next  thing 
to  it,  a  model,  enjoying  the  pictures  she  has  helped  to 
make.'  Seeing  she  had  no  catalogue,  we  presented  her 
with  ours,  and  left  her  in  that  undying  Elysian  world  of 
Art,  while  we  slowly  went  down  the  steps  with  the  strong 
conviction  upon  us  that  age  had  not  yet  robbed  us  of 
the  power  of  spending  a  happy  grey  summer  morning  in 
London. 


296    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 


HEALTH 

Nurses — *  Janet's  Kepentance  ' — Private   hospitals— Sick -nursing- 
Convalescence— Medical  books. 


OUR  home-coming  this  September  was  an  agitating  and 
painful  one.  We  had  been  warned  by  telegraph  that  we 
should  find  grave  sickness  in  the  house,  and  so  indeed  it 
was.  Doctors,  nurses,  everything  provided  before  we 
were  able  to  get  back.  How  little  can  the  young  of  the 
present  day  understand  the  complete  revolution  that  has 
come  over  family  life  in  the  last  half-century,  and  how 
changed  are  our  relations  towards  the  sick,  though 
the  invalid  may  be  our  nearest  and  dearest !  Thirty  years 
ago,  even  in  the  houses  of  the  comparatively  rich,  it  was 
exceedingly  difficult  to  get  help  in  illness ;  an  old  char- 
woman, a  coachman's  wife,  or  a  servant  out  of  place,  was 
considered  all  that  was  necessary.  Even  a  partially  trained 
nurse  was  a  very  rare  thing,  and  never  sought  for  except 
in  cases  of  severe  operation  or  dangerous  fevers.  It  seems 
almost  impossible  to  believe  that  chloroform  was  not  used 
till  the  middle  of  the  'Forties,  and  that  Liston's  first  great 
operation  with  the  patient  unconscious  from  ether  was  in 
1848.  Now,  in  spite  of  the  many  blessings  nurses  generally 
bring  to  the  patients,  I  think  the  fact  that  they  are  usually 
good  and  very  easily  obtained  is  one  cause  of  the  deterio- 
ration in  home-life  clearly  perceptible  to  all  of  us  who 
are  of  a  certain  age.  Sickness  does  not  now  strain  every 
nerve,  nor  bring  the  same  occupation,  the  same  real 


HEALTH  297 

work,  mental  and  physical,  that  it  used  to  do.  The 
feeling  of  responsibility,  of  constant  anxiety,  is  taken  off 
our  shoulders  and  laid  on  the  nurse.  Loving  members 
of  a  family  have  just  to  continue  their  ordinary  lives,  for 
mere  occupation's  sake,  and  to  avoid  the  reproach  of 
giving  way  to  useless  grief,  however  anxious  they  may  be. 
Ministering  to  those  we  love  is  too  often  denied  us,  and 
the  patient's  gentle  gratitude,  which  used  to  tighten  for 
life  the  bonds  of  affection,  either  does  not  now  exist,  or 
is  given  to  a  hard- worked,  perhaps  overworked,  woman 
who  does  not  want  it,  and  who  is  here  to-day  and  gone 
to-morrow.  Her  services,  however  excellent  and  efficient, 
are  given  for  money,  and  are  and  ought  to  be  perfectly 
different  from  the  tender  and  devoted  services  prompted 
by  love.  All  sensible  doctors  recognise  this. 

George  Eliot,  whose  large-minded  philosophy  did  so 
much  to  form  the  youth  of  my  generation,  is  not,  I  am  told, 
much  read — or,  at  any  rate,  not  much  appreciated — now 
by  the  young.  There,  is  a  splendid  passage  in  '  Janet's 
Repentance '  which  brings  home  to  us  the  lesson  of  the 
sick-room  as  no  words  of  mine  could  do.  This  lesson 
is  sadly  missed  under  the  modern  condition  of  things, 
and  the  want  of  it  has  perhaps  caused  that  rebellion 
against  sorrow  and  sickness  which  we  so  often  see  now- 
adays. It  is  a  lesson  which  those  who  learnt  it  young 
never  forget,  for  it  colours  the  whole  of  their  lives  :— 

'  Day  after  day,  with  only  short  intervals  of  rest,  Janet 
kept  her  place  in  that  sad  chamber.  No  wonder  the 
sick-room  and  the  lazaretto  have  so  often  been  a  refuge 
from  the  tossings  of  intellectual  doubt — a  place  of  repose 
for  the  worn  and  wounded  spirit.  Here  is  a  duty  about 
which  all  creeds  and  all  philosophers  are  at  one  ;  here,  at 
least,  the  conscience  will  not  be  dogged  by  doubt,  the 
benign  impulse  will  not  be  checked  by  adverse  theory; 
here  you  may  begin  to  act  without  settling  one  preliminary 


298    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

question.  To  moisten  the  sufferer's  parched  lips  through 
the  long  night-watches,  to  bear  up  the  drooping  head, 
to  lift  the  helpless  limbs,  to  divine  the  want  that  can 
find  no  utterance  beyond  the  feeble  motion  of  the  hand, 
the  beseeching  glance  of  the  eye — these  are  offices  that 
demand  no  self-questioning,  no  casuistry,  no  assent  to 
propositions,  no  weighing  of  consequences.  Within  the 
four  walls  where  the  stir  and  glare  of  the  world  are  shut 
out,  and  every  voice  is  subdued — where  a  human  being 
lies  prostrate,  thrown  on  the  tender  mercies  of  his  fellow 
— the  moral  relation  of  man  to  man  is  reduced  to  its 
utmost  clearness  and  simplicity  ;  bigotry  cannot  confuse  it, 
theory  cannot  pervert  it,  passion  awed  into  quiescence 
can  neither  pollute  nor  perturb  it.  As  we  bend  over  the 
sick-bed,  all  the  forces  of  our  nature  rush  towards  the 
channels  of  pity,  of  patience,  and  of  love,  and  sweep  down 
the  miserable  choking  drift  of  our  quarrels,  our  debates, 
our  would-be  wisdom,  and  our  clamorous,  selfish  desires.' 
If  this  picture  is  true,  and  every  word  of  it  comes  home 
to  me  as  a  truth,  then  surely  life  as  it  is  now  is  in  some 
respects  a  poorer,  weaker  thing  in  consequence  of  the 
modern  idea  which,  under  the  power  of  the  medical  pro- 
fession, sends  our  husbands  to  a  private  hospital  for  an 
operation,  and  hands  over  our  sick  in  our  own  homes,  let  us 
say  to  the  very  best  of  women,  but  to  women  who  never  saw 
them  before,  and  who,  we  hope,  will  never  see  them  again. 
These  excellent  women,  though  paid  by  you,  are  virtually 
the  servants  of  the  doctor,  to  do  his  bidding,  and  even, 
if  necessary,  to  cover  and  veil  his  mistakes  or  screen  his 
faults.  The  professional  reputation  of  the  nurse  is  not 
in  any  way  affected  by  the  life  or  death  of  her  patient ;  so 
long  as  she  does  her  duty,  death  is  an  incident  in  the  course 
of  business.  But  her  very  livelihood  depends  on  her  saying 
that  the  operation  was  well  performed,  and  on  pleasing 
the  doctor  who  attends  after  the  operation  is  over.  I  do 


HEALTH  299 

not  say  this  as  a  reproach  to  anyone,  or  even  as  a  con- 
demnation of  a  system  which,  if  logically  carried  out,  as 
fortunately  it  seldom  is,  comes  very  near  to  being  the 
greatest  of  modern  tyrannies.  My  reason  for  noticing  it 
is  that,  though  under  these  conditions  the  responsibility 
of  the  mother  or  wife  becomes  different  and  much  less 
simple,  it  is  by  no  means  entirely  over,  as  many  young 
people  seem  to  me  to  imagine.  We  none  of  us  wish  for 
one  moment  to  return  to  the  nurses  of  the  type  described 
by  Dickens,  but  I  do  think  we  ought  all  of  us,  in  our  homes 
and  with  any  influence  we  may  have  on  our  generation,  to 
guard  against  throwing  ourselves  entirely  into  the  hands 
of  the  doctors  and  nurses,  with  an  absolute  submission  of 
our  intelligence — a  submission  which  we  should  think 
ridiculous  and  impossible  in  any  of  the  other  conditions 
of  life.  It  is  bad  for  them  and  bad  for  us.  Such  power 
is  too  much.  Such  a  neglect  of  our  duties  and  such 
complete  dependence  on  others  may  have  most  disastrous 
consequences  on  ourselves,  and,  still  worse,  may  seriously 
injure  the  lives  of  those  we  love.  Nothing  matters  so 
much,  be  it  old  style  or  new,  as  that  sickness  in  the  house, 
end  it  ever  so  favourably,  should  hurt  or  lessen  family 
love ;  for,  as  Thackeray  says  in  one  of  his  letters,  '  Aimons 
nous  lien.  It  seems  to  me  that  is  the  only  thing  we  can 
carry  away,  and  when  we  go  let  us  have  some  who  love 
us  wherever  we  are.' 

Nurses  have  a  very  hard  life,  and  almost  all  women 
who  work  are  apt  to  belong  to  the  overworked  portion  of 
the  community.  That  they  should  combine  in  any  way 
that  is  possible,  for  their  own  advantage  and  for  the 
maintenance  of  their  old  age,  is  very  much  to  be  desired. 
But  the  public  should  never  for  one  moment  forget  that 
nursing,  which  began  in  devotion  and  forgetfulness  of  self, 
as  a  vocation,  has  now  become,  in  the  most  acknowledged 
sense  of  the  word,  a  profession  and  an  employment  for 


300  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

women,   depriving    them  of    the    leisure    and  pleasure 
belonging    to    their    youth — that    leisure   and  pleasure 
which  justified   Scott's   description   of  woman   as  '  un- 
certain, coy,  and  hard  to  please,'  and  the  want  of  which 
certainly   also  takes   from   them  the  right  to   consider 
themselves,  or  even  the  power  to  be, '  ministering  angels.' 
What  is  done  for  duty  and  money  can  never  be  the  same 
offering   as   what  is   done   for  love  and  devotion.     The 
public  only  are  to  blame  if  they  think  a  strong  young 
woman  ceases  to  be  a  human  being  because  she  works 
hard  and  wears  a  nurse's  dress.     It  is  of   distinct  im- 
portance that  in  the   case  of  choosing  a  nurse   for   a 
husband,   brother,   or   son,   a  woman    should    feel    the 
responsibility  of  the  situation,  and  not  take  the  first  nurse 
that  turns  up  at  an  institution.     The  selecting  of  a  nurse 
should  most  certainly  not  be  left  to  chance.     The  nurse 
should  be  suitable  for  the  case  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  family  as  well  as  that  of  the  doctor.     Why  should  we 
expose  two  human  beings  under  our  charge  to  temptations 
which  we  should  not  sanction  under  any  of  the  other 
circumstances  of  life  ?    Convalescence  ought  to  be  a  time 
of  rest  both  for  mind  and  body,  not  a  time  that  is  need- 
lessly prolonged  for  the  sake  of  foolish  and  unworthy 
flirtation,  which  is   no   more   sanctioned  by  the  higher 
members  of  the  profession  than  is  flirtation  between 
a  doctor  and  his  patient.      The   accusations  that  just 
lately  have  been  showered  on  the  nurses,  they  deserve, 
it    seems   to   me,   no   more   than    any    other    class    of 
young  women  who  share  our  common  human  nature. 
The  blame  rests  with  those  who  select  the  nurse — first 
the  matron  of  the  hospital  or  institution,  and  then  the 
person  who  chooses  her  for  the  individual  case. 

The  commonest  of  our  national  faults,  and  one  which 
affects  all  our  health  regulations,  is  surely  that  we 
sanction  the  obvious  causes  of  a  situation,  and  then  are 


HEALTH  301 

surprised  and  grumble  at  their  inevitable  consequences. 
It  is  not  so  much  a  question  of  morality  as  of  mere 
worldly  common-sense  and  expediency.  The  laws  which 
should  regulate  such  a  new  departure  are  not  yet  formed — 
nursing,  according  to  our  modern  ideas,  being  scarcely  a 
quarter  of  a  century  old.  As  long  as  the  world  lasts  and 
women  are  women,  give  them  certain  circumstances  and 
a  sufficient  temptation,  and  nothing  will  keep  them 
straight.  Some  women,  too,  take  to  nursing  because 
early  trouble  has  made  other  openings  difficult  for  them. 
Under  those  circumstances  we  meet  the  most  dangerous 
type  of  woman  that  exists ;  the  world  has  turned  against 
her,  and  thereby  caused  her  to  become  hard  and  bad,  and 
the  enemy  of  society — the  type  that  crushes,  by  all 
the  means  in  her  power,  any  other  woman  who  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  crosses  the  path  of  her  conquest. 
Few  people  seem  to  consider  that  the  training  of  a  nurse 
is  more  hardening,  and  more  likely  to  unsex  a  woman, 
than  the  training  of  an  actress.  At  any  rate,  it  is  im- 
possible to  go  through  it  without  becoming  very  much 
better  or  very  much  worse  than  the  ordinary  woman.  In 
France  they  understand  human  nature  better  than  we 
do,  and  would  never  dream  of  allowing  our  system  of 
nursing.  Nurses  in  Paris  are,  I  believe,  most  difficult  to 
get.  We  want  more  regulations  and  more  judicious 
assistance  from  public  opinion.  The  French  want  an 
increased  staff  of  nurses  who  are  well  conducted  and  not 
too  young,  to  supplement  the  devoted,  high-minded,  deeply 
religious  class  of  women  who  can  alone  join  the  Sister- 
hoods, as  they  apparently  are  insufficient  in  number. 
Time,  the  greatest  adjuster  of  all  human  difficulties,  will 
settle  these  matters.  What  concerns  us  is  that  no  turn 
of  fortune's  wheel  should  crush  and  injure  ourselves  or 
those  belonging  to  us;  and  what  matters  now  is  that 
ordinary  knowledge  and  common- sense  on  the  subject  of 


302  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

health  should  be  brought  to  bear  by  every  woman 
responsible  in  any  way  for  the  well-being  of  others,  and 
especially  of  the  young.  Public  opinion,  I  am  glad  to 
say,  does  not  forgive  a  mother's  neglect  of  her  children's 
physical  condition ;  and  the  condemnation  is  severe  when 
a  boy,  after  all  his  work  and  passing  his  hard  examina- 
tions, is  plucked  in  the  medical  examination  for  some 
slight  physical  defect — it  may  be  nothing  worse  than 
neglected  corns  or  a  crooked  toe — which  with  ordinary 
care  in  childhood  or  a  slight  operation  might  have  been 
entirely  cured.  Is  it  stinginess,  or  is  it  idleness,  or  is  it 
ignorance,  or  is  it  mere  selfishness  and  a  dislike  to 
acknowledge  delicacy  in  their  own  children,  or  a  half- 
conscientious  repudiation  of  responsibility  and  a  blind 
trust  in  Providence,  that  makes  so  many  parents  allow 
life-long  misery  and  suffering  to  come  upon  their  children 
just  for  the  want  of  a  little  care  and  study  of  the 
ordinary  rules  of  health,  and  of  the  watchful  eye  which  is 
given  by  every  hunting  man  to  his  horse  ? 

One  word  more  I  must  add  about  convalescence. 
With  the  young  and  the  healthy  it  is  a  time  of  hope  and 
even  happiness,  in  spite  of  mourning  over  the  lost  muscles 
and  strength,  and  the  irritating  tyrannies  of  the  sick- 
room. But  in  long,  chronic,  hopeless  illness  modern 
nursing,  with  all  its  real  advantages,  becomes  an  active 
daily  trial,  only  to  be  borne  patiently  from  the  same 
feeling  that  makes  all  work  and  all  trials  bearable — 
namely,  for  the  time  being,  doing  the  disagreeable  for  the 
sake  of  the  ultimate  good.  It  is  our  only  method  of 
earning  our  daily  bread  by  the  sweat  of  our  brow,  the  old 
golden  rule  of  life,  which  in  all  the  forms  it  takes  is  still 
the  one  that  convinces  us  that  life  is  worth  living,  if  not 
for  ourselves,  at  any  rate  to  continue  our  presence  here  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  dearly  wish  to  keep  us.  And  so 
all  the  trials  and  fatigues  of  the  three  hours'  nurse's  rule 


HEALTH  303 

in  the  sick-room  in  the  morning  have  to  be  gone  through 
as  patiently  and  cheerfully  as  is  possible.  But  he  or  she 
can  afterwards  sink  exhausted  on  the  sofa  or  bed,  and 
can  indeed  say  with  the  pride  that  belongs  to  each  one  of 
us  in  our  tiny  sphere,  *  I,  too,  have  not  been  idle — I,  too, 
have  done  my  best  for  those  who  are  dear  to  me.'  But 
it  is  weary  work,  and  for  the  very  weak  they  can  only 
feel  how  very  much  happier  it  would  be  to  be  left  alone 
and  lie  still  and  unbothered,  instead  of  feeling  more  tired 
than  after  a  hard  day's  hunting. 

For  those  who  wish  to  learn,  or  those  who  are  going 
abroad  or  to  live  in  out-of-the-way  places,  and  for  those 
who  do  not  care  to  have  a  doctor  always  in  their 
house,  I  will  name  a  few  books  written  for  the  public  by 
medical  men  and  women  of  distinction  and  of  great 
experience,  and  who  are  in  no  sense  of  the  word  quacks. 
The  great  difference,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  between  the 
books  of  medical  men  and  those  of  so-called  quacks,  is 
that  the  latter  have  absolute  faith  in  their  remedies,  and 
use  almost  the  identical  old  miraculous  words,  '  Wash 
and  be  clean ' — and  this  really  often  answers — while  the 
books  written  by  doctors  employ  a  much  more  cautious 
language.  To  an  immense  number  of  human  beings  the 
narrow  and  forcible  phraseology  has  great  attractions,  and 
goes  a  long  way  in  affecting  the  nerves  and  mind,  which 
are  undoubted  and  powerful  factors  in  all  cures.  Where 
disease  is  advanced  and  real,  is  it  not  admitted  by  all 
systems  that  alleviation,  not  cure,  is  all  that  is  possible  ? 
The  simulation  of  disease  is  often  merely  the  result  of 
shattered  or  over-stimulated  nerves.  I  fancy  the  medical 
books  come  near  the  truth  when  they  suggest  that  an 
immense  number  of  remedies  and  different  treatments 
may  all  do  good  under  different  circumstances.  In  my 
opinion  the  cause  of  a  vast  amount  of  the  bad  health  of 
the  present  day  is  owing  to  the  number  of  drugs  that 


304  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

people  take — partly,  at  first,  by  order  of  the  doctor  and 
continued  afterwards,  and  still  more  from  the  taking  of 
quack  medicines.  When  a  doctor  comes  to  the  house,  he 
should  be  given  every  chance,  and  obeyed  in  all  he  says ; 
but  when  he  is  dismissed,  his  medicines  should  go  with  him, 
and  all  amateur  doctoring  should  be  of  the  simplest  kind — 
abstinence  first  and  foremost,  and  various  applications  of 
hot  and  cold  water.  One  of  our  great  physicians  two  or 
three  years  ago,  in  his  opening  address  to  his  hospital  pupils, 
said  that  seventy  per  cent,  of  the  patients  in  a  great  London 
hospital  (think  what  that  means  !)  would  not  be  there  if 
they  were  teetotalers  and  vegetarians  ;  and  this  statement 
passed  unnoticed  in  all  the  daily  papers  in  which  the 
address  was  reported.  If  doctors  could  convince  their 
patients  of  this,  I  fear  their  profession  would  be  a  less 
lucrative  one,  and  that  the  health  of  the  community  would 
be  far  better — at  any  rate,  fewer  of  the  leisured  moneyed 
classes  would  have  to  go  to  German  watering-places, 
homceopathists,  and  quacks. 

It  is  quite  a  latter-day  thing  for  doctors  to  talk  in  this 
way  about  abstinence  in  health,  but  I  shall  never  forget 
what  I  owe  to  an  old-fashioned  country  doctor,  who  told 
me,  whenever  my  children  were  ailing,  to  knock  off  at 
once  all  animal  food — meat,  soup,  and  even  milk.  Later 
in  my  life,  I  remember  it  was  a  favourite  saying  of  Sir 
William  Gull's  :  '  First  get  your  patient  hungry,  and  then 
keep  him  so.' 

The  first  book  I  recommend  is  called  'On  Slight 
Ailments  and  on  Treating  Disease,'  by  Lionel  Beale. 
This  is  a  collection  of  lectures  delivered  at  King's  College, 
London,  on  the  principles  and  practice  of  medicine.  If 
the  book  has  a  fault,  it  is  that  it  is  too  comprehensive  and 
medical  to  suit  the  palate  of  the  ordinary  amateur.  The 
next  contains  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  and  the  sim- 


HEALTH  305 

plicity  of  the  dove,  and  has  the  attractive  title  of  '  A  Plea 
for  a  Simpler  Life,'  by  George  S.  Keith,  a  well-known 
Edinburgh  doctor.  This  little  book  is  short,  clear,  and 
wise. 

'  Food  and  Feeding,'  by  Sir  Henry  Thompson.  This 
is  a  much-to-be-commended  and  really  instructive  book. 
It  goes  into  first  principles,  both  of  health  and  of  the 
chemical  properties  of  food,  and  would  be  far  more  useful 
to  take  to  wild  places  or  distant  lands  than  any  ordinary 
cookery  book.  The  commonplace  of  living  is  taken  up 
and  handled  for  our  benefit  by  a  man  of  great  talent  and 
learning.  Everybody  who  has  not  got  it,  ought  to  buy  it 
— and  study  it,  too. 

The  next  is  what,  I  suppose,  would  be  called  a  quack- 
book,  and  its  name  is  '  Power  through  Eepose,'  by  Annie 
Payson  Call.  It  is  an  admirable,  healthy,  and  useful 
little  book,  particularly  suited  to  the  straining,  and  striving, 
and  overworking  of  the  age.  It  will  be  found  most  helpful 
to  the  sleepless  and  the  nervous,  if  they  will  study  it  and 
give  attention  to  its  directions. 

Last,  but  by  no  means  least  in  its  great  utility,  comes 
1  A  Handbook  of  Nursing  for  the  Home  and  the  Hos- 
pital/ by  Catherine  Jane  Wood.  Miss  Wood  was  for 
years  lady-superintendent  of  the  Great  Ormond  Street 
Hospital  for  Children,  so  she  speaks  with  great  authority. 
Though  it  has  reached  the  eleventh  edition,  it  is  astonish- 
ing how  many  people  have  never  heard  of  this  first-rate 
little  handbook.  It  is  condensed  and  yet  detailed,  it 
is  medical  and  yet  simple  and  intelligible  to  a  degree 
which  brings  it  within  the  comprehension  of  anyone.  In 
fact,  I  believe  it  to  be  the  best  book  on  nursing  ever 
written. 

This  little  poem  of  Mr.  Lionel  Tennyson's  has,  I 
believe,  never  been  published ;  a  friend  gave  it  to  me 

x 


306     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY   GARDEN 

some  years  ago.     I  think  it  will  appeal  to  many  people  as 
it  does  to  me : — 

SYMPATHY 

In  this  sad  world,  where  mortals  must 

Be  almost  strangers, 
Should  we  not  turn  to  those  we  trust 

To  save  us  from  our  dangers  ? 
Then  whisper  in  my  ear  again, 

And  this  believe — 
That  aught  which  gives  thy  dear  heart  pain 

Makes  my  heart  grieve. 

God  wills  that  we  have  sorrow  here, 

And  we  will  share  it ; 
Whisper  thy  sorrow  in  my  ear, 

That  I  may  also  bear  it. 
If  anywhere  our  trouble  seems 

To  find  an  end, 
'Tis  in  the  fairyland  of  dreams 

Or  with  a  friend. 


307 


AMATEUR  ARTISTS 

Amateurs — Want  of  occupation— Work  amongst  the  poor— Music 
and  drawing — Buskin's  teaching— Technical  skill — Natural  and 
acquired  talent  —Leaving  home— Water-colours  versus  oils. 

DRAWING  and  gardening  are  so  intimately  connected,  and 
being  able  to  draw  is  such  a  preparation  to  the  study  of 
gardening,  that  I  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  bring  in 
here  part  of  an  article  I  wrote  last  year  (1896)  in  the 
'  National  Eeview.'  In  it  I  tried  to  set  down  some 
observations  on  the  subject  of  amateur  art,  having  myself 
had  a  life-long  experience  of  it,  of  its  great  joys  and  its 
many  heart-burning  disappointments  and  difficulties. 
The  increased  taste  for  art  and  many  other  causes  have 
tended  during  the  last  twenty  years  to  dimmish  the 
number  of  those  who  draw  for  pleasure  alone ;  whereas 
public  opinion  and  family  pride,  which  once  thought 
starvation  and  beggary  more  honourable  than  work,  now 
no  longer  prevent  our  sons  and  daughters  from  earning 
their  bread  as  professional  artists,  musicians,  or  actors. 
But  it  is  not  to  these  that  I  wish  to  allude.  They  have 
found  their  vocation  ;  their  course  is  clear.  I  am  speaking 
of  the  amateur  proper,  common  enough  a  generation  ago. 
Nine-tenths  of  the  amateurs  are  women,  and  it  is  upon 
amateur  art  as  an  occupation  for  women  that  I  wish  to 
insist.  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  of  the  importance 
to  a  girl  of  having  an  interest  in  life  over  and  above  her 
affections  and  the  trifling  domesti  duties  that  may  come 

X  2 


308     POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

in  her  way.  If  not,  the  time  will  come  when,  either  as  a 
young  married  woman  whose  husband's  duties  keep  him 
absent  during  most  of  the  day,  or  as  one  whom  accident 
or  choice  has  withheld  from  marriage,  she  will  feel  that 
desauvrement  which  drives  so  many  women  into  frivolity 
and  folly,  and  sinks  many  more  into  ill-health  and  fretful 
misery. 

Tennyson  bade  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere  employ,  in 
what  is  now  called  philanthropy,  the  hours  which  might 
drag  wearily  with  her  if  she  desisted  from  playing  with 
hearts.  He  recognised  the  fact  that  women  who — through 
no  fault  of  their  own,  be  it  remembered — are  born  to  no 
very  distinct  duties,  must  have  some  occupation  to  fill 
their  minds  and  lives,  or  they  will  infallibly  take  to  some 
form  of  mischief.  No  doubt  it  is  a  gain  that  so  much 
should  now  be  almost  universally  acknowledged.  The 
question  of  finding  wise  and  fruitful  work  for  the  many 
women,  married  or  single,  who  have  time  and  heart  and 
brain  insufficiently  occupied,  still  remains,  whether  we 
like  it  or  not,  one  of  the  burning  questions  of  the  day. 
But  the  experience  of  the  last  twenty  years  has  shown — I 
think,  beyond  dispute — that  the  late  Laureate's  solution  of 
the  difficulty  is  not  a  satisfactory  one.  Far  be  it  from  me 
to  cast  discredit  on  the  noble  work  which  has  been  done, 
and  is  still  being  done,  among  the  poor  of  London  and 
other  great  cities;  but  in  the  opinion  of  all  who  have 
thought  on  the  subject,  and,  still  more,  of  those  who  have 
had  practical  experience  of  it,  there  is  no  channel  from 
which  the  activity  of  amateurs  should  be  more  carefully 
diverted.  The  long  apprenticeship,  the  severe  application, 
the  entire  self-devotion,  to  the  exclusion  of  other  occupa- 
tions, which  distinguish  the  professional  from  the  amateur, 
should  be  required  before  people  are  allowed  to  deal 
with  burning  social  questions,  to  tamper  with  the  lives 
of  others,  to  risk  pauperising  individuals  by  indis- 


AMATEUR  ARTISTS  309 

criminate  charity,  or,  as  is  continually  the  case  with 
visiting  in  hospitals,  to  stir  up  unintentionally  class 
hatred  by  injudicious  interference.  It  is  a  growing  opinion 
that  almost  all  such  work  requires,  not  zeal  and  intel- 
ligence alone,  but  the  whole  time  and  individual  energies 
of  those  who  devote  themselves  to  it.  Not  all  who  can 
give  these  are  endowed  by  Nature  and  education  with  the 
qualities  which  render  them  capable  of  being  useful  in 
that  line. 

Five-and-twenty  or  thirty  years  ago,  serious  education 
for  women  of  the  leisured  class  was  hardly  thought  of. 
The  teaching  of  domestic  economy,  as  well  as  all  real 
mental  training,  was  neglected  in  favour  of  superficial 
accomplishments.  It  was  then  far  more  common  to  meet 
with  the  young  lady  whose  aesthetic  impulses  found  vent 
in  flower-painting  and  landscape  art  than  it  is  in  the 
present  day.  Mr.  Euskin's  teaching,  the  constant  read- 
ing of  art  criticism — above  all,  the  more  thorough  ground- 
ing now  insisted  upon  in  every  branch  of  education — has 
opened  girls'  minds  and  increased  their  diffidence.  They 
have  a  far  more  widespread  and  intelligent  interest  in  art, 
but  the  actual  number  of  amateur  workers  has  greatly 
diminished.  These  influences,  by  educating  the  taste 
and  increasing  the  knowledge  of  a  large  section  of  the 
public,  have  combined  to  deter  those  who  in  former  days 
would  have  been  only  too  ready  to  dabble  in  water- 
colours.  They  are  now  withheld  by  an  exaggerated 
sense  of  the  difficulties  of  the  undertaking,  or  by  a 
consciousness  that  they  lack  time  or  opportunity  to  learn 
to  any  purpose.  Unfortunately  this  diffidence  principally 
affects  the  more  sensitive  and  poetical  of  the  young 
people.  For  the  sake  of  these,  and  just  because  en- 
couragement is  needed,  I  wish  to  point  some  of  the 
reasons  why  their  courage  should  not  fail.  It  seems  to 
me  that  there  is  much  profit  and  enjoyment  to  be  derived 


3io     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

from  an  occupation  which  brings  into  the  home  none  of 
the  irritation  so  often  produced  by  the  piano  or  violin. 
Music,  no  doubt,  not  merely  in  cases  of  real  talent,  but  also 
when  only  ordinary  proficiency  is  attained,  is  the  most 
sociable  of  hobbies.  It  brings  other  musical  people  to 
the  house,  and  gives  far  more  pleasure  to  those  among 
non-performers  who  like  it,  if  more  annoyance  to  those 
who  do  not,  than  drawing.  Many  natures,  however, 
have  the  temperament  of  genius  without  its  creative 
power,  and  I  doubt  very  much  whether  music  gives  the 
same  vent  and  the  same  satisfaction  to  these  which  even 
a  slight  taste  for  drawing  affords  when  cultivated.  There 
is  a  rare  delight  in  the  exercise  of  creative  power,  however 
limited ;  and  this  pleasure  is  given  by  drawing,  even  at  its 
most  elementary  stage.  What  was  a  piece  of  white 
paper  has  something  on  it,  and  you  have  put  it  there.  It 
has  also  the  great  advantage  that  it  can  be  practised  at  all 
times  and  in  all  places — when  travelling,  at  the  dull  sea- 
side lodging,  in  town,  or  at  the  empty  or  sad  backwater 
times  of  life  that  everyone  experiences.  Its  danger  to 
each  individual  is  the  same  as  that  of  all  other  pleasures 
and  occupations  to  which  we  give  our  hearts,  it  en- 
courages selfish  absorption.  But  everything  has  its 
reverse  side ;  and  I  am  sure  that,  to  the  person  with  no 
ear  for  music  and  no  taste  for  independent  study  in 
science  or  literature,  drawing  may  prove  a  lasting  delight, 
a  source  of  peace  and  content,  a  stimulus  to  moral  and 
intellectual  growth.  The  occupation,  to  those  who  have 
learnt  to  love  it,  causes  time  to  fly  on  the  wings  of 
pleasure ;  it  adds  new  interest  and  zest  to  life,  opening 
the  eyes  to  a  whole  world  of  beauty  which  has  hitherto 
lain  unknown  or  unnoticed.  Balzac  said  :  '  The  genius 
of  observation  is  almost  the  whole  of  human  genius.'  If 
this  aphorism  is  not  comprehensively  true,  it  serves  at 
least  to  prove  how  life  is  enriched  even  for  stupid  by 


AMATEUR  ARTISTS  311 

cultivating  observation;  and  yet  how  many  go  through 
life  without  it !  As  one  branch  of  '  the  genius  of  observa- 
tion,' the  artistic  pursuit  educates  the  taste  in  the  highest 
sense  of  that  j  much-abused  word.  It  increases  immensely 
the  appreciation  of  works  of  art,  both  ancient  and 
modern.  It  often  leads  to  a  reasoned  study  of  the 
history  of  art,  its  interesting  evolution,  and  its  bio- 
graphical and  critical  literature.  Besides  these,  to  come 
to  more  homely  matters  and  the  most  feminine  side  of 
a  woman's  life — namely,  the  management  of  her  dress  and 
the  decoration  of  her  house — the  knowledge  of  colour  and 
the  study  of  form  will  make  both  these  more  beautiful 
and  less  commonplace.  They  will  also  give  her  assurance 
to  free  herself  from  the  often  tasteless  tyrannies  of  the 
dressmaker  and  the  upholsterer. 

Granting  the  wish,  how  is  an  ambitious  girl  to  set 
about  learning  to  draw  ?  She  may  do  a  great  deal  by 
herself  ;  but  in  the  initial  stage,  help  is  very  desirable — not 
in  childhood,  but  after  seventeen.  Much  waste  of  time 
and  energy  is  prevented  by  a  few  timely  lessons,  even 
though  solitary  effort  with  the  aid  of  books,  especially 
such  a  book  as  Euskin's  '  Elements  of  Drawing,'  might 
in  the  end  conquer  the  difficulties.  The  old  accusation 
against  amateur  work,  of  showiness  and  superficiality,  was 
certainly  well  deserved  in  the  days  when  the  one  idea 
was  to  send  for  a  fashionable  drawing-master,  who  taught 
his  pupils  to  make  feeble  copies  of  his  own  drawings — 
which  copies  he  most  unfairly  touched  up,  to  make  the 
results  more  satisfactory  to  parents  or  guardians.  Of 
course,  this  system  was  deplorable  ;  but  those  evils  have 
disappeared,  to  give  place  to  their  exact  contraries  in 
modern  art  teaching.  The  dryness  of  the  grounding,  the 
difficulties  of  getting  through  the  earlier  stages  of  an  art 
school,  often  discourage  the  student  who  cannot  give  up 
all  her  time  and  energies  to  conquering  these  initial 


3i2     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

difficulties,  which  are  made  so  great.  The  modern  girl 
who  works  in  a  studio  now  spends  months,  even  years, 
drawing  rough  charcoal  studies  of  the  nude.  This,  of 
course,  is  essential  for  a  genius  who  is  seriously  going  in 
for  figure-painting.  But  to  the  ordinary  amateur  it  brings 
about  the  desired  results  no  more  than  the  knowledge  of 
the  alphabet  would  give  the  mental  development  to  be 
derived  from  literature.  The  upshot  of  all  this  serious 
study  is  that,  as  the  girl's  life  gets  fuller,  her  drawing  can 
no  longer  be  the  accompaniment  to  her  life,  and  she  gives 
it  up  in  despair. 

It  may  be  thought  well  that  these  half-hearted  workers 
should  be  turned  back  at  the  outset.  This  would  be  right, 
if  the  drawing  of  amateurs  were  to  be  measured  only  by 
its  results.  But  the  least  of  its  many  advantages  to  them 
is  the  production  of  a  mere  drawing,  especially  as  this  is 
always  so  inferior  to  what  they  hoped  to  produce.  The 
really  important  ends  in  view  are  the  influence  on 
character,  the  employment  of  time,  and  the  attainment 
of  innocent  happiness,  which  are  all  of  much  greater 
importance  than  mere  technical  skill.  I  do  not  deny  the 
usefulness  of  schools,  nor  the  impetus  they  may  have 
given  to  our  national  art.  But  their  system  has  its 
faults,  even  as  regards  the  training  of  professionals  or  of 
those  amateurs  whose  great  talent  may  carry  them  quickly 
through  the  drudgery  these  schools  impose.  It  seems  to 
me  that  there  is  room  now  for  well-qualified  teachers  of 
water-colour  sketching,  without  any  revival  of  the  old- 
fashioned  and  very  superficial  system  of  years  gone  by. 
A  teacher  should  himself  have  been  grounded  in  freehand, 
design,  and  perspective.  He  should  be  able  to  guide  the 
pupil  through  these  early  stages  into  the  happier  plains 
of  still-life  or  landscape  painting  from  Nature  more 
quickly  and  with  less  tedium  than  could  be  done  in  the 
school  or  the  studio.  I  know  that  with  patient  work  a 


AMATEUR   ARTISTS  313 

girl  may  do  all  this  alone.  I  do  not  want  anything  to  be 
expected  of  the  instruction  I  recommend  beyond  the 
smoothing  of  the  path.  It  will  avail  nothing  unless  it 
teaches  her  to  depend  in  the  long  run  on  herself,  her  own 
industry,  and  her  own  exertions.  A  certain  amount  of 
technical  skill  in  the  use  of  pencil  and  colours,  certain 
rules  of  composition,  the  knowledge  of  how  to  stretch 
paper,  prepare  materials,  and  set  about  a  drawing,  may 
be  imparted  by  a  teacher.  This  saves  all  the  time  and 
vexation  it  would  cost  to  learn  these  things  alone.  But 
though  we  may  learn  from  another  to  some  extent  how 
to  think,  no  one  in  the  world  can  tell  us  what  to  think. 
The  faculty  and  the  will  must  be  supplied  by  the  learner. 
No  teacher  can  instil  them,  though  he  may  remove 
obstacles  and  help  to  quicken  the  growth  of  the  powers 
within.  Unless  a  girl  have  it  in  her  to  feel,  in  however 
small  a  degree,  the  beauty  of  the  light  summer  cirrus 
which  floats  above  her  head,  or  to  know  how  to  look  with 
joy  into  the  glowing  heart  of  a  flower,  no  books  and  no 
teaching  will  ever  give  it  to  her.  Without  an  inborn  love 
of  natural  beauty,  no  one  will  ever  care  enough  about 
drawing  to  persevere  ;  with  it,  no  one  can  fail  to  make 
progress,  however  slight.  Beginners  should,  I  think, 
never  destroy  their  drawings ;  they  should  be  kept,  not 
in  conceit,  but  as  a  proof  of  progress.  Every  drawing, 
however,  should  be  made  with  a  definite  purpose,  and  it 
is  best — as  a  rule — for  each  one  to  draw  what  she  most 
fancies ;  the  result  will  then  probably  not  only  be  more 
satisfactory,  but  more  original.  But  to  begin  sketch  after 
sketch  and  study  after  study,  and  then  give  them  up  or 
throw  them  away  half  finished,  is  a  form  of  self- 
indulgence  most  fatal  to  progress.  It  debilitates  the 
intelligence  and  weakens  the  moral  fibre,  which  alone 
conquers  difficulties. 

On   the   other  hand,   it  is  not  uncommon  for  un- 


314     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

fortunately  conscientious  persons  to  fall  into  the  contrary 
error.  They  may  perseveringly  linger  over  unattractive 
studies,  merely  because  they  offer  certain  difficulties,  on 
the  ascetic  principle  of  hair  shirts  and  peas  in  our  shoes. 
To  these  I  would  say  :  '  If  you  were  pursuing  a  country 
path  and  turned  back  at  the  first  stile,  instead  of  climbing 
over  it,  you  would  never  reach  your  destination.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  you  decided  that  because  climbing  a  stile 
is  a  disagreeable  and  tedious  process,  therefore  it  must 
be  good  for  us,  and  you  promptly  climbed  back  again, 
you  would  delay  your  progress  to  no  purpose.  There 
is  a  distinction  between  overcoming  obstacles  which 
obstruct  our  onward  and  upward  path,  and  idly 
creating  difficulties  for  the  fancied  glory  of  conquering 
them.' 

Progress  depends  on  a  general  brain  power,  and  is  not 
so  surely  proportioned  to  effort  as  the  sanguine  and  the 
clever  are  apt  to  believe.  It  is  unfortunately  quite 
possible  for  amateurs  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  over 
their  drawings,  to  take  a  real  interest  in  the  pursuit,  and 
yet  to  achieve  but  small,  very  small,  results.  Such 
failure  is  sometimes  due  to  circumstances  and  to  pre- 
ventable causes.  The  most  common  of  them  is  the 
constant  interruption  to  which  all  home  work,  and 
especially  women's  work,  is  liable.  The  curious  selfish- 
ness in  this  matter  of  even  the  best  of  mothers  often 
immensely  surprises  me.  It  is  hard  indeed  to  convince 
parents  and  relations  that  women  have  any  right  to  the 
undisturbed  use  of  any  portion  of  their  time.  I  think  a 
great  deal  of  that  desire,  so  commonly  displayed  now,  for 
girls  to  leave  their  homes  and  undertake  some  work,  has 
been  brought  about  by  this  want  of  realisation  of  the 
necessity  of  quiet,  if  work  is  to  be  done.  These  inter- 
ruptions, so  often  quite  needless,  not  only  cause  an 
immense  loss  of  time,  but  are  actually  a  great  hindrance 


AMATEUR  ARTISTS  315 

to  improvement  in  art.  It  is  always  difficult,  often 
almost  impossible,  to  take  up  work  again  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  it  was  laid  down.  The  threads  are  broken, 
and  cannot  be  joined  together  again,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  intense  annoyance  of  finding  the  subject  moved,  the 
colour-box  upset,  or  the  water  spilt.  The  power  of 
working,  in  spite  of  such  drawbacks,  can  be  cultivated, 
especially  if  it  is  possible  to  set  up  a  table  either  in  the 
pupil's  own  bed-room,  or  if  some  disused  room  can  be 
handed  over  to  her,  where  no  one  touches  her  things  but 
herself. 

As  a  compromise  to  the  undesirableness  of  leaving 
home  altogether,  these  difficulties  may  very  well  be  met, 
if  one  or  two  amateurs  club  together  and  hire  a  suitable 
room  elsewhere  outside  their  own  homes.  It  might  also 
be  possible  to  get  the  loan  of  a  room  in  the  house  of  a 
young  married  woman  who  is  the  mistress  of  her  own 
time,  where  all  materials  remain  undisturbed,  and  where 
the  surroundings  are  not  annoying  or  distracting.  Un- 
papered  walls,  simply  whitewashed,  a  plain  deal  table  or 
two,  a  few  pieces  of  cheap  pottery,  are  to  be  procured 
at  the  cost  of  a  very  few  shillings,  a  bunch  of  leaves 
or  a  handful  of  Poppies  or  Marigolds  giving  the  touch  of 
colour  which  is  dear  to  the  soul  of  the  most  incipient 
artist.  Besides  the  advantage  to  the  work  of  quiet  and 
seclusion,  it  is  to  many  women  both  a  rest  and  a  stimulus 
to  go  out  to  their  work  daily,  as  men  do. 

Another  point  which  I  would  beg  may  be  remembered 
is  that  water-colours  are  far  more  suitable  to  amateurs  than 
oils.  The  use  of  oils  encourages  all  those  defects  of 
slovenliness  and  carelessness,  speed  and  showy  display, 
to  which  amateurs  are  liable.  A  bad  sketch  or  study  in 
oils  is  far  more  distressing  than  a  bad  sketch  in  water- 
colours.  The  materials  of  water-colours  are  more 
manageable  and  convenient  for  those  who  have  neither 


3i6     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

much  space  nor  much  time  at  their  command — that  is  to 
say,  for  the  majority  of  amateurs.  Moreover,  water-colour 
painting  is  our  national  art,  and  it  perhaps  can  never  be 
fully  understood  or  appreciated  save  by  those  who  have 
some  experience  of  its  great  technical  difficulties. 


317 


DAUGHTERS 

School-girls— Ignorance  of  parents — The  confidence  of  children  must 
be  gained — The  way  to  do  it— Drawbacks  of  nurseries  and  school- 
rooms— Over  -  education — Show  -  training — Delicate  girls — A 
woman's  vocation — Superficial  teaching — Children's  tempers — 
Modern  girls — Herbert  Spencer  and  education — J.  P.  Eichter — 
Liberty  and  independence — Serious  studies — What  young  girls 
should  read — Parents  and  children — Friendships — Girls'  allow- 
ances— Dress — Professions — Strong  feelings  —  Management  of 
house  and  family — Early  rising — Life  in  society. 

MUCH  that  I  have  said  with  regard  to  boys  applies  to 
girls  too,  but  I  would  only  recommend  sending  girls  to 
school  in  very  peculiar  and  exceptional  circumstances.  I 
used  to  think  that,  for  town  girls,  the  high -schools  afforded 
the  best  method  of  education.  I  now  think  that  the  pupils 
there  are  worked  much  too  hard.  What  is  really  wanted 
for  women  is  a  mental  training,  the  creation  of  a  habit 
of  mind,  rather  than  technical  knowledge  of  any  kind. 
Eemember,  such  experience  as  I  have  of  girls  is  entirely 
limited  to  the  leisured  classes — those  who,  by  an  unwritten 
law,  are  virtually  brought  up  to  amuse  themselves  first, 
and  to  marry  afterwards.  I  know  nothing  of  the  wants 
and  requirements  of  those  girls  who  are  aware,  from  the 
beginning,  that  they  will  actually  have  to  earn  their 
bread  and  decide  on  a  walk  in  life,  as  a  boy  does.  One 
merit  of  school  is  that  if  the  father  and  mother  have 
neglected  the  health  of  their  children,  as  is  too  frequently 
the  case,  from  idleness,  ignorance,  or  prejudice,  abnormal 


3i8     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

bad  health  is  probably  revealed  by  the  school-life ;  and  if 
a  boy  cannot  do  as  others  do,  some  one  has  to  discover 
the  reason  why.  Hundreds  of  mothers  will  own  how 
much  healthier,  for  some  cause  or  another,  their  boys  are 
at  school  than  they  were  at  home.  This  limelight  of 
criticism — which,  I  think,  is  thrown  on  the  facts  of  the 
case  at  school — is,  alas  !  never  turned  upon  the  unfortu- 
nate schoolroom  girl.  She  is  inclined  to  think  that  others 
suffer  as  much  as  she  does ;  or,  at  any  rate,  she  would  far 
rather  endure  almost  anything  in  silence  than  make  com- 
plaints which  often  cause  the  mother  and  the  governess  to 
accuse  her  of  being  fanciful,  idle,  or  self-indulgent.  It  is 
a.  problem,  never  solved  through  a  woman's  life,  when  it 
is  best  to  disregard  her  ailments  or  to  attend  to  them. 

One  of  the  most  startling  things  I  know  is  the 
ignorance  of  parents  as  to  what  is  going  on  in  the  lives 
and  minds  of  their  children.  I  am  thankful  to  say  that 
in  all  my  long  experience  I  have  only  known  one  or  two 
really  bad,  indifferent,  selfish  mothers;  but  even  the 
kindest  mothers,  and  those  who  devote  most  time  and 
thought  to  the  welfare  of  their  children,  are  sometimes 
quite  blind  to  the  discomforts,  the  sorrows,  and  even  the 
tragedies  that  are  being  endured  in  silence  under  their 
very  eyes.  I  refer  rather  to  the  childhood  of  girls  than 
of  boys,  for  these  last  are  almost  always  sent  to  school 
when  quite  young,  and  from  that  moment  their  indepen- 
dence and  consequent  outspokenness  when  at  home  are 
generally  assured.  But  numbers  of  women  have 
mentioned  to  me  the  troubles  of  their  childhood,  which 
never  were  suspected  by  their  mothers,  and  which  they 
themselves  never  dreamt  of  revealing  till  they  were  quite 
grown  up,  sometimes  not  till  they  were  married  and  out 
of  the  home  altogether.  Every  young  mother  says  and 
thinks,  '  This  sort  of  thing  shall  never  happen  with  my 
children ; '  but  it  does  happen,  again  and  again.  The  cause 


DAUGHTERS  319 

lies,  not  in  the  want  of  kindness,  but  in  a  want  of 
intelligence — the  intelligence  to  put  one's  self  on  the 
level  of  a  child  and  to  see  its  life  from  its  point  of  view. 
This  faculty  is  so  rarely  displayed  that  it  is  safe  to  con- 
clude it  rarely  exists.  It  is  a  gift  of  no  mean  order,  for, 
however  generous  our  intentions  may  be,  it  is  an  exceed- 
ingly difficult  task  to  deal  out  justice.  I  do  not  deny  that 
there  is  a  tendency  in  most  people  to  exaggerate  the 
troubles  of  their  childhood,  which  must  be  taken  into 
account ;  but  how  many  a  mother  thinks  that  her  darlings 
are  all  right,  and  so  bright  and  happy,  with  every  reason 
to  be  so,  when,  in  fact,  they  are  eating  their  little  hearts 
out  in  misery  and  sorrow  !  The  capability  for  suffering 
in  some  children  is  quite  extraordinary,  and  trivial 
things  assume  colossal  proportions  in  their  small  lives. 

When  girls  are  brought  up  under  teachers  and 
governesses,  as  is  generally  the  case  in  the  houses  of  the 
wealthy,  the  difficulty  is  increased.  To  complain  of  these 
authorities  to  the  still  higher  but  more  distant  authority  of 
a  parent  is  a  very  doubtful  means  of  redress,  and,  in  case 
of  failure,  the  risk  of  punishment  or  of  an  aggravation  of 
the  evil — real  or  imagined — which  gave  rise  to  the  com- 
plaint, is  too  terrible  to  be  faced.  Almost  all  girls,  under 
such  circumstances,  are  afraid  to  speak  the  truth.  In  my 
own  case  I  was  not  afraid  of  my  mother,  but  this  made 
the  keeping  of  governesses  very  difficult.  I  had  eight  of 
them  before  I  was  fifteen,  and  I  disliked  all  but  one.  I 
expect,  though  doubtless  I  was  a  'horrid  child,'  that,  as 
regards  the  governesses,  I  was  pretty  clear- judging.  Of 
course,  the  governesses  of  to-day  have  a  very  different 
idea  of  their  duties  from  what  was  usual  fifty  years  ago. 
Special  training  is  given  to  those  who  undertake  to  teach 
the  young,  and  this  is  now  recognised  as  an  art  in  itself, 
independently  of  having  knowledge  and  information  to 
impart.  Such  a  change  has  greatly  helped  to  raise 


320     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

the  vocation  of  a  governess  to  a  far  more  competent 
standard. 

How  to  gain  the  confidence  of  children — that  is  the 
eternal  problem.  Broadly  speaking,  I  believe  no  one 
ever  helps  human  nature,  except  by  assuming  it  to  be 
higher  and  nobler  than  it  is.  It  is  humiliating  to  be 
deceived,  but  it  is  better  to  be  so  a  thousand  times  than 
once  to  underrate  a  good  quality  or  a  good  impulse,  or 
to  give  up  hope  and  trust.  It  is  difficult  to  see  and  to  be 
with  our  children  enough,  and  the  difficulty  is  not  solved 
even  by  the  mother  teaching  the  children  their  lessons 
herself.  Anybody,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  does  this 
better  than  she  can.  No  morning  occupation  or  after- 
noon class  together  does  away  with  the  necessity  for 
devoting  to  the  children  the  all-important  interval  between 
five  o'clock  and  bed-time,  which  it  is  hard  for  some 
mothers  to  give  to  them.  In  my  opinion  a  wise 
mother  should  give  up  her  friends  rather  than  her  child- 
ren at  that  hour.  If  the  father  can  be  at  home  then, 
too,  so  much  the  better.  At  that  time  children  are  a 
little  tired  and  want  amusing.  I  think  this  is  far  better 
done  by  talking  to  them,  and  by  playing  the  piano  and 
singing  to  them,  or  by  teaching  them  how  to  play  by 
themselves  some  kind  of  semi-active  game,  than  by 
obliging  them  to  employ  themselves  quietly,  or  by  reading 
to  them.  If  they  attend  and  listen,  it  is  too  tiring  for 
them ;  and  if  they  do  not,  it  is  a  thorough  waste  of  time. 
A  great  many  children,  if  encouraged  to  speak  openly, 
will  tell  you  that  they  do  not  care  about  being  read  to, 
unless  it  is  some  child's  story  which  they  almost  know 
by  heart,  and  which  is  read  to  them  over  and  over  again, 
as  the  nurses  do.  Of  course,  I  am  now  only  speaking  of 
children  under  eleven  or  twelve  years  old. 

A  great  drawback,  not  only  to  the  children  but  to  the 
parents,  in  what  is  called  upper-class  life,  is  that  the 


DAUGHTERS  321 

duties  of  that  life  necessitate  the  consigning  of  their 
children  for  a  great  part  of  the  day  to  the  care  of  others. 
If  there  were  no  nurseries  and  no  schoolrooms,  there 
would  be  no  necessity  for  a  '  children's  hour '  at  all,  for 
the  children  would  share  life  with  their  mother  from  the 
first,  and  she  would  derive  her  pleasure  from  taking  care 
of  them.  A  serious  difficulty  for  the  mother  is  that  she 
has  to  compete  with  the  devotion  and  constant  attention 
of  the  nurses  and  governesses.  It  is  this  which  often 
gives  children  the  idea  that  it  is  only  when  with  their 
mother  that  they  are  dull,  neglected,  and  expected  to 
occupy  and  amuse  themselves ;  and  this  is  certainly  an 
undesirable  impression  to  produce  at  an  age  when  im- 
pressions are  strong  and  likely  to  be  lasting.  Every  case 
must  be  judged  individually,  and  a  woman  must  put  to 
herself  how  far  it  is  necessary  that  she  should  separate 
her  life  from  the  life  of  her  children.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  it  ought  to  depend  on  what  is  her  husband's  social 
position,  or  on  what  is  his  idea  of  her  duties  to  him.  In 
the  cases  where  it  is  most  difficult  for  a  woman  to  see 
much  of  her  children — let  us  say,  in  the  large  houses  of 
the  rich  in  town  or  country — it  is  better  that  children  and 
governess  should  be  turned  into  the  hosts,  and  that  the 
parents  and  guests  should  go  to  them  for  tea,  rather  than 
the  usual  arrangement  of  the  children  being  brought  into 
the  drawing-room. 

In  speaking  to  young  mothers  who  are  inclined  to  be 
over-anxious,  and  who  begin  worrying  themselves  over 
details  of  their  children's  education,  I  always  try  and 
remind  them  that  no  education  really  affects  the  character 
very  much  before  about  twelve  years  old,  so  long  as 
attention  is  paid  in  every  way  to  their  health  and  to  the 
kind  of  nurses  who  are  about  them.  As  one  gets  old, 
one  remembers  the  numbers  of  children  that  were  brought 
up  in  totally  different  ways ;  and  yet,  roughly  speaking, 


322     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY  GARDEN 

in  spite  of  either  spoiling  or  neglect,  over-  or  under- 
educating,  how  few  belonging  to  the  same  class  are  really 
much  better  or  much  worse  than  their  fellows — in  fact, 
what  an  ordinary  level  they  attain !  What  marked 
differences  do  exist  are  due  much  more  to  individuality 
of  character  than  to  the  various  trainings  they  have 
undergone.  Even  the  most  earnest  mothers  have  some- 
times to  own  that  the  children  of  parents  who  took  no 
pains  at  all  turn  out  quite  as  well  as  their  own.  I  refer, 
of  course,  to  what  is  called  intellectual  education,  and  not 
to  the  physical.  I  once  more  come  back  to  saying  that 
neglect  of  health  and  over-stimulating  of  the  brain  before 
the  age,  say,  of  fifteen  in  excitable,  clever  children  are  the 
only  two  things  that  really  might  work  for  evil  on  the 
future.  No  true  opinion  about  the  character  of  a  child 
can  be  arrived  at  till  the  age  of  sixteen  or  seventeen, 
though  guesses  more  or  less  correct  may  be  made  much 
earlier.  The  education  of  children  depends  so  immensely 
on  the  gradual  growth  and  development  of  the  mother 
herself,  and  on  the  influences  through  which  she  passes. 
Those  mothers  most  admired  in  their  devotion  to  their 
babies  have  generally  turned  out,  according  to  my  ob- 
servation, the  least  satisfactory,  and  the  least  able  to 
control  and  guide  their  children  in  later  life.  This  is  due, 
of  course,  to  temperament  and  to  the  woman  being  one 
who  is  satisfied  with  the  nursery,  who  never  looks  forward, 
who  ceases  to  cultivate  herself  after  marriage,  and  who, 
above  all,  does  not  keep  pace  with  the  generation  which 
lies  between  herself  and  her  children,  this  generation 
being  the  only  one  that  will  interpret  her  children  to 
herself  when  they  are  grown  up.  A  mother  should  be 
on  her  guard  about  changing  her  methods  because  some 
one  else's  children  seem  more  or  better  instructed  or 
prettier-mannered  than  her  own.  To  be  actively  in- 
fluenced as  regards  your  children  by  the  comments  of 


DAUGHTERS  323 

others  is,  I  think,  a  mistake.  Take  all  the  advice  you 
can  get  all  round,  but  never  act  upon  it  till  you  have 
thoroughly  digested  it  and  seriously  considered  whether 
it  agrees  with  your  general  plan  or  not.  Nothing  is  so 
easy  as  to  train  children  like  monkeys  or  dancing  dogs ; 
nothing  so  difficult  as  to  make  that  sort  of  show-training 
of  the  smallest  use  in  the  far  more  important  factor  of 
character  development.  Children  who  are  brought  up 
naturally  must  often  be  naughty  and  disagreeable  in 
family  meetings,  which  mortifies  the  mother,  but  is  only 
an  experience  gained  to  the  child.  What  hurts  us  is 
not  so  much  that  those  we  love  should  say  what  they 
think,  as  that  they  think  what  they  say. 

I  remember  a  boy  who  was  once  foolishly  talked  to 
by  his  mother  for  not  being  so  clever  or  so  industrious 
as  the  little  A.'s,  some  neighbour's  children.  The  boy 
instantly  answered,  '  But,  mother,  are  you  and  father  the 
least  like  Mr.  and  Mrs.  A.  ? '  There  is  a  good  deal  in  the 
answer;  the  first  essential  is  to  be  ourselves,  our  best 
selves  certainly,  but  no  imitation  of  others,  and  never 
wishing  to  be  so  as  regards  our  children.  Even  when 
we  strive  to  be  original,  we  often  only  end  in  being  affected. 
Mr.  Euskin  says :  *  That  virtue  of  originality  that  men 
strive  after  is  not  newness,  as  they  vainly  think  (there  is 
nothing  new) ;  it  is  only  genuineness/  Every  form  of 
training  has  its  merits  and  its  defects,  both  in  the  present 
and  the  future. 

On  looking  back  myself,  I  can  honestly  say  that  what 
was  least  usual,  least  conventional,  and  most  criticised 
by  others  is  what  I  regret  the  least  in  the  education  of 
my  own  sons. 

To  continue  what  I  have  to  say  about  little  girls ;  the 
moment  they  are  what  doctors  call  delicate — that  is  to 
say,  have  any  constitutional  or  hereditary  weakness — still 
more,  if  there  is  any  organic  disease — no  sacrifice  on  the 

Y2 


324     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

part  of  parents  is,  to  my  mind,  too  great,  and  no  neglect 
of  education  is  to  be  thought  of  compared  to  improving 
the  child's  state  of  health.  Nothing  is  so  likely  to  do 
that  as  high  country  air  or  sea  air  for  a  great  part  of  the 
year.  Girls  may  grow  up  healthy  and  strong,  though  they 
live  in  London  nearly  all  the  year  round,  but  it  is  un- 
doubtedly a  risk  which  should  never  slip  out  of  the 
mother's  mind,  especially  if  the  remaining  in  London 
is  associated  with  any  selfish  purposes  of  her  own,  either 
as  regards  pleasure  or  expense.  In  France  the  teaching 
of  Rousseau  still  unconsciously  influences  society,  and 
fashionable  doctors  insist  on  delicate  children  being  sent 
right  away  into  the  country,  to  lead  almost  peasants' 
lives.  This  plan  I  never  can  feel  is  kind  or  even  wise, 
though  it  ensures  the  advantages  of  no  excitement, 
country  air,  and  liberty  to  run  in  and  out — so  necessary 
an  element  in  child-life.  But  it  rather  resembles  turning 
thin-skinned  stable-horses,  with  their  tails  cut,  into  a 
green  field  full  of  sunshine  and  flies.  Delicately  born 
and  nurtured  children  must  suffer  from  the  rough  life. 

In  England,  on  the  contrary,  I  think  we  often  sacri- 
fice our  girls'  good  to  the  selfish  pleasure  of  keeping 
them  with  us,  making  the  girls'  education  the  excuse. 
Broadly  speaking,  it  is  far  better  for  a  woman  to  be 
strong,  healthy,  intelligent,  observant,  and,  above  all, 
adaptable  to  the  changes  and  chances  of  this  mortal  life, 
than  that  she  should  be  well  educated.  Intelligence  is 
no  doubt  inborn,  a  gift  that  belongs  to  no  class;  bad 
health  may  injure  it,  but  no  higher  education  will  ever 
give  it  to  those  who  are  without  it,  nor  will  it  ever  make 
what  I  consider  the  ideal  woman. 

The  longer  I  live,  the  more  I  believe  that  a  woman's 
education,  if  she  has  not  to  learn  some  special  trade, 
should  be  awakening  and  yet  superficial,  teaching  her  to 
stand  alone  and  yet  not  destroying  her  adaptability  for  a 


DAUGHTERS  325 

woman's  highest  vocation,  if  she  can  get  it — which  is.  of 
course,  marriage  and  motherhood. 

The  word   superficial,  its  dictionary  synonym  being 
shallow,  is  one  that  will,  I  fear,  be  a  rock  of  offence  to 
many  ;  and  yet  I  know  none  better.     Mr.  Morley,  in  his 
lecture  on  Popular  Culture,  expresses  what  I  mean  when 
he   says :    '  What   I   should  like  to   see  would   be    an 
attempt  to  compress  the  whole  history  of  England  into 
a  dozen  or  fifteen  lectures — lectures,  of  course,  accom- 
panied by  catechetical  instruction.     I  am  not  so  extrava- 
gant as  to  dream  that  a  short  general  course  of  this  kind 
would  be  enough  to  go  over  so  many  of  the  details  as 
it  is  desirable  for  men  to  know ;  but  details  in  popular 
instruction,  though  not  in  the  study  of  the  writer  or  the 
University  professor,  are  only  important  after  you  have 
imparted  the  largest  general  truths.     It  is  the  general 
truths  that  stir  a  life-like  curiosity  as  to  the  particulars 
which  they  are  the  means  of  lighting  up.'     That  is  what 
I  mean  by  superficial  teaching,  something  which  gives  a 
desire  in  the  child  or  the  girl  to  learn.     Instead  of  boring 
her  to  death  with  what  teachers  consider  the  roots  and 
foundations  of  knowledge,  and  which  no  child  can  under- 
stand or  appreciate,  I  would  strive  to  arouse  curiosity, 
and  trust   that  she   would  go  deeper  herself  when  the 
desire  for  knowledge  came. 

Mr.  Morley  goes  on  to  say :  '  Another  point  is  worth 
thinking  of,  besides  the  reduction  of  history  for  your 
purposes  to  a  comprehensive  body  of  rightly  grouped 
generalities.  Dr.  Arnold  says  somewhere  that  he  wishes 
the  public  might  have  a  history  of  our  present  state  of 
society  traced  backwards.  It  is  the  present  that  really 
interests  us  ;  it  is  the  present  that  we  seek  to  understand 
and  to  explain.  I  do  not  in  the  least  want  to  know  what 
happened  in  the  past,  except  as  it  enables  me  to  see  my 
way  more  clearly  through  what  is  happening  to-day.  I 


326     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY  GARDEN 

want  to  know  what  men  thought  and  did  in  the  thir- 
teenth century,  not  out  of  any  dilettante  or  idle  anti- 
quarian's curiosity,  but  because  the  thirteenth  century  is 
at  the  root  of  what  men  think  and  do  in  the  nineteenth. 
Well,  then,  it  cannot  be  a  bad  educational  rule  to  start 
from  what  is  most  interesting,  and  to  work  from  that 
outwards  and  backwards.' 

I  mourned  a  good  deal  in  my  own  youth  over  the  fact 
that  I  had  been  very  badly  educated,  and  this  certainly 
stimulated  me,  at  a  period  when  time  was  wanting,  to  do 
what  I  could  for  myself.  But  on  looking  back  over  the 
last  thirty-five  years — and  speaking  again,  of  course,  only 
from  my  own  very  limited  experience — I  should  say  that 
all  the  women  who  have  done  best  in  life  among  my 
married  kinsfolk  and  acquaintances  were  those  who  were 
most  superficially  and  casually  educated.  Two  women 
are  known  to  me  who  have  filled  the  highest  positions 
admirably,  who  have  been  crowns  of  glory  to  their 
husbands,  and  have  been  universally  recognised  as 
women  of  the  noblest  type  by  all  who  have  come  in 
contact  with  them  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  As 
children  they  were  by  no  means  exceptionally  clever, 
and  their  regular  governess  education  ceased  at  the 
extremely  early  age  of  twelve.  They  were  left,  with 
occasional  masters,  to  learn  what  they  could  and  improve 
themselves;  but  they  had  from  their  earliest  years  the 
great  advantage  of  constantly  moving  about.  Some- 
times town,  sometimes  country,  and  often  abroad,  they 
were  never  in  one  place  for  six  months  at  a  time.  Many 
parents  are  so  afraid  of  making  these  breaks  in  the 
continuity  of  their  girls'  education,  and — as  is  only 
human — the  governesses  and  teachers  are  always  against 
it.  One  of  the  disadvantages  of  classes  and  competitive 
education  is  that  ambitious  children  themselves  often 
object  to  their  studies  being  broken  into.  But  all  the 


DAUGHTERS  327 

experience  of  moving  about,  the  little  hardships  and 
privations  that  come  even  in  our  modern  luxurious 
travelling,  are  an  immense  advantage  and  training  to 
children,  revealing  their  individual  characters  to  their 
mother  as  no  home  life  ever  can.  The  impressions 
gained  through  the  eyes  and  ears  are  incomparably  mor 
lasting  and  real  than  any  information  learnt  from  books. 

Bad  temper  in  children  is  a  thing  that,  in  my  opinion, 
ought  always  to  be  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness, 
gentleness,  tenderness,  and  consideration.  It  is  generally 
a  matter  of  health  and  nerves,  and  often  may  be,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  inherited  from  the  mother's  irritability 
during  her  pregnancy,  which  is  caused  very  frequently 
by  a  feeling  of  dislike  at  having  a  child  at  all.  Surely, 
then,  this  demands  our  utmost  tenderness.  I  think  that, 
in  a  family,  the  children  with  good  and  even  tempers 
ought  to  be  talked  to  in  a  way  to  make  them  understand 
that,  if  they  tease  and  annoy  the  child  with  the  hot 
temper,  they  are  quite  as  much  to  blame  as  the  irritable 
ones  themselves.  The  even-tempered  child  generally 
means  the  indifferent  one,  and  this  in  itself  is  an  irrita- 
tion to  one  who  is  excitable  and  highly  strung. 
Thwarting  and  contradicting  only  do  harm  ;  love,  tender- 
ness, gentleness,  and  great  attention  to  health  may  do 
good.  In  short,  the  true  situation  is  revealed  to  us 
by  the  old  Persian  philosopher's  prayer : — '  O  God  !  be 
merciful  to  the  wicked.  To  the  good  Thou  hast  already 
been  sufficiently  merciful  in  making  them  good.' 

In  my  youth,  and  still  more  before  my  time,  girls 
were  brought  up  to  think  that  marriage  was  their  one 
and  only  chance  in  life,  and  that,  if  they  did  not  marry 
quite  young,  they  would  never  marry  at  all.  Now  they 
know  much  more  about  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of 
life,  and  pride  themselves  on  not  thinking  about  marriage. 
This  seems  to  me  a  mistake ;  they  ought  to  think  of 


328     POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

it  very  seriously  and  from  every  point  of  view,  so  that 
they  should  be  able  and  ready  to  seize  on  the  practical 
solution  when  the  difficulty  arises.  Marriage  should  not 
be  a  woman's  only  profession,  but  it  should  be  her  best 
and  highest  hope.  Every  girl  should  try  and  make 
herself  worthy  of  it  both  in  body  and  mind,  and  this 
attitude  will  not  make  a  girl  grow  into  a  less  sensible  old 
maid  if  she  has  to  be  one.  Galiani  asked  Madame 
d'Epinay,  the  writer  of  the  famous  *M6moires'  in  the 
last  century,  and  the  friend  of  Eousseau,  what  were  her 
views  of  woman's  education.  This  is  her  reply : — '  Vous 
voulez  savoir  de  moi  ce  qu'une  femme  doit  6tudier  ?  Sa 
langue,  afin  qu'elle  puisse  parler  et  6crire  correctement. 
La  po6sie,  si  elle  y  a  du  penchant;  en  tout  elle  doit 
cultiver  toujours  son  imagination,  car  le  vrai  me" rite  des 
femmes  et  de  leur  societ^  consiste  en  ce  qu'elles  sont 
moins  factices,  moins  gat6es,  moins  eloigne"es  de  la 
nature  et  par  cela  plus  aimables  ;  en  fait  de  morale  el  les 
doivent  etudier  beaucoup  les  hommes  et  jamais  les 
femmes,  elles  doivent  connaitre  et  Etudier  tous  les  ridi- 
cules des  hommes  et  jamais  ceux  des  femmes.' 

In  the  days  long  ago,  when  my  children  were 
children,  and,  as  is  apt  to  be  the  case  when  one  is  sur- 
rounded with  a  small  growing-up  family,  half  the  popu- 
lation of  the  world  seemed  to  me  to  be  children,  my 
thoughts  were  so  centred  on  the  subject  that  nothing 
else  appeared  to  me  of  any  great  importance.  At  that 
time  two  books  gave  me  much  comfort,  support,  and 
instruction.  One  was  '  Education  :  Intellectual,  Moral, 
and  Physical,'  by  Herbert  Spencer.  This  book,  now  so 
much  read  and  so  widely  known,  requires  no  recom- 
mendation from  anyone,  but  I  do  wish  to  say  that  every 
father  and  mother  should  read  it — not  once,  but  again  and 
again.  Some  will  disagree  with  one  part  and  some  with 
another,  but  I  defy  anybody  to  read  it  without  a  certain 


DAUGHTERS  329 

clearing  of  the  head  and  opening  of  the  mind,  most  essen- 
tial to  those  who  have  the  heavy  responsibility  of  training 
the  young.  If  there  is  one  thing  above  all  others  that 
repeats  its  faults  ad  nauseam  and  is  blindly  conservative, 
it  is  the  management  of  children  in  the  nursery  and 
schoolroom.  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  book  has  fortunately 
now  reached  a  very  cheap  edition.  It  is  a  book  created 
by  the  hand  of  genius,  and  not  the  result  of  personal 
experience.  I  humbly  bow  to  it  in  grateful  thanks  for 
all  the  good  I  derived  from  its  perusal. 

The  second  book  is  called  '  Levana,  or  The  Doctrine 
of  Education,'  by  Jean  Paul  Frederick  Eichter,  and  is 
only  accessible  to  me  through  the  translation  into 
English.  It  is  a  book  full  of  thought  and  wisdom,  and  it 
speaks  of  prosaic  things  in  a  poetic  manner  ;  and  though 
the  opening  chapters  apply  to  both  sexes,  it  refers  rather 
to  the  training  of  daughters  than  of  sons,  as  being  the 
first  and  most  important  business  of  a  mother.  I  can 
strongly  recommend  its  perusal ;  at  the  same  time  a  good 
deal  of  it  is,  of  course,  out  of  date.  It  is  written  by  a 
German,  and  entirely  from  a  man's  point  of  view.  The 
book  is  full  of  love  and  tenderness,  and  may  perhaps  be 
thought  very  high-flown  and  old-fashioned  in  these  days. 
This  does  not  matter ;  it  speaks  of  the  undying  facts  of 
Nature,  which  will  last  as  long  as  the  world  does.  I 
cannot  resist  copying  here  one  passage,  which  I  believe 
will  come  home  tenderly  to  every  mother  who  is  about 
to  give  away  in  marriage  a  loved  young  daughter  :— 

'  Certainly  a  wisely  and  purely  educated  maiden  is  so 
poetic  a  flower  of  the  dull  world,  that  the  sight  of  this 
glorious  blossom  hanging,  some  years  after  the  honey- 
moon, with  yellow  faded  leaves  in  unwatered  beds,  must 
grieve  any  man  who  beholds  it  with  a  poet's  eye ;  and 
who  must,  consequently,  in  sorrow  over  the  common 
usefulness  and  servitude  of  the  merely  human  life,  over 


330    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

the  difference  between  the  virgin  and  the  matron,  utter 
the  deadliest  wishes  ;  yes,  I  say,  he  would  rather  send 
the  virgin  with  her  wreath  of  rosebuds,  her  tenderness, 
her  ignorance  of  the  sufferings  of  life,  her  dream-pictures 
of  a  holy  Eden,  into  the  graveyard  of  earth,  which  is 
God's  field,  than  into  the  waste  places  of  life.  Yet  do  it 
not,  O  poet !  The  virgin  becomes  a  mother,  and  gives 
birth  to  the  youth  and  the  Eden  which  have  fled  from 
her ;  and  to  the  mother  herself  they  return,  and  fairer 
than  before  :  and  so  let  it  be  as  it  is.' 

We  have  of  late  been  going  through  a  transition  stage 

on   the   question  of  giving  liberty  and  independence  to 

young  women.     The  most  enlightened  mothers,  during  the 

last  twenty  years,  in  their  anxiety  to  be  in  touch  with  the 

times,  have  perhaps  given  their  girls  too  great  liberty  when 

too  young,  and  when  the  girls  have  grown  older,  from  fear 

perhaps  of  what  people  might  say,  they  have  made  the 

fatal  mistake  of  trying  to  tighten  the  reins.     Let  parents 

and  even  young  husbands  realise  that  liberty  once  given 

can  never  be  withdrawn  from  individuals,  any  more  than 

from  nations,  without  quarrels  and  trouble.     The  liberty 

of  women  within  certain  limits  must  grow,  and  society 

will  adapt  itself  to  it.     The  good  and  the  bad  will  go  on 

as  they  have  always  done,  uninfluenced  by  the  swing  of 

the  pendulum  or  the  fiats  of  fashion.     One  generation 

shows  the  shoulder  and  hides  the  arm,  the  other  covers 

up  the  shoulder  and  displays  the  arm.     In  my  mother's 

youth  it  was  thought  fast  to  valse,  in  my  youth  it  was 

thought  fast  to  sit  out  with  a  partner  after  dancing,  and 

now  girls  valse  and  sit  out  and  ride  bicycles,  and  none  of 

these  things  make  or  unmake  good  women. 

I  should  say  seventeen  or  eighteen  was  quite  young 
enough  for  a  girl  to  begin  serious  study,  if  she  is  inclined 
that  way.  In  childhood  attend  to  the  grace  and  beauty 
of  her  body,  let  her  know  her  own  language  well,  teach 


DAUGHTERS  331 

her  music  (to  discover  if  she  has  a  taste  for  it,  that  can  be 
developed)  and  foreign  languages,  for  they  cannot  be  learnt 
later,  and  are  of  great  use  to  women  in  many  positions 
in  life.  If  she  shows  any  taste  for  drawing,  encourage  it 
in  all  ways,  giving  her  time  in  which  to  do  it,  but  no 
serious  lessons  till  she  is  much  older.  The  drudgery  of 
early  teaching  often  destroys  any  taste  the  child  may 
have.  Pay  great  attention  to  handwriting ;  a  good  and 
cultivated  handwriting  is  quite  easy  to  acquire  young, 
and  is  a  continual  advantage  to  a  woman  through  life. 

Another  thing  that  mothers  should  teach  their  children, 
and  of  which  they  should  ever  remind  their  young  men 
and  women  as  they  grow  older,  is  the  extreme  importance 
of  prompt  note-answering.  The  habit  of  writing  notes 
and  letters,  which  is  now  going  somewhat  out  of  fashion, 
is  certainly  of  great  assistance  in  helping  us  to  obey  the 
golden  rule  never  to  turn  a  friend  into  an  enemy  by  mere 
carelessness  or  idleness,  for  want  of  a  little  trouble  or  of 
the  explanation  which,  if  neglected,  often  changes  the 
whole  character  of  the  situation  into  one  that  is  hard  and 
difficult,  and  even  in  some  cases  irreparable. 

Some  years  ago  I  sympathised  much  and  took  great 
interest  in  the  movement  that  tended  towards  the  higher 
education  of  women.  I  still  think  that  every  door  should 
be  thrown  open  and  every  facility  given,  both  as  regards 
education  and  professional  employment,  to  such  women 
who  have  mind  and  strength  for  the  competition.  The 
great  danger  of  over-educating  young  girls  is  that  they 
are  so  much  keener  and  work  so  much  harder  than  boys  ; 
and  even  if  it  does  not  injure  their  health,  it  very  often 
unfits  them  for  life,  and  makes  them  dissatisfied  with 
their  home  and  its  surroundings. 

The  great  objection  to  the  superficial  education  I 
recommend  and  believe  to  be  so  advantageous  to  the 
prosperous,  is  that  it  may  degenerate  into  idleness  and 


332     POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY  GARDEN 

frivolity  in  times  of  prosperity,  and  so  prove  an  utter 
failure  in  times  of  adversity,  and  in  the  possibility  of 
having  to  earn  a  livelihood  later  in  life.  I  think  most 
sensible  young  women  of  the  present  day  feel  the 
necessity  of  attaining  a  proficiency  in  some  one  direction, 
to  which  they  could  turn  for  help  in  the  hour  of  need. 
Very  often,  however,  the  occupation  that  might  best  be 
turned  to  bread-winning  is  not  the  one  to  which  girls  are 
most  addicted  in  their  prosperity.  In  such  a  case,  when 
money-making  is  not  the  object,  they  must  make  their 
own  standard,  and  reach,  if  possible,  a  high  order  of 
proficiency ;  for  to  take  up  any  one  thing,  and  then 
to  do  it  badly,  has  a  deteriorating  effect  upon  the 
moral  nature.  The  superficial  beginning  which,  accord- 
ing to  my  theory,  is  conducive  to  largeness  of  mind, 
is  a  good  preparation  to  later  special  training.  The 
only  other  alternative,  which  is  the  worst  of  all,  is  if  girls 
fold  their  hands  and  say  they  are  not  clever,  and  that 
they  can  do  nothing.  With  patience  and  perseverance 
every  girl  can  do  something.  Once  a  woman  has 
made  up  her  mind  that  she  has  to  earn  her  living,  no 
concentration  of  study  for  the  one  particular  occupation 
she  has  in  view  can  be  too  thorough  or  too  severe.  The 
essential  requirement  for  bread- winning  is  that  she  should 
be  able  to  do  some  one  thing  better  than  the  generality 
of  people  with  whom  she  is  in  competition. 

Now  we  come  to  the  eternal  and  ever-discussed 
question,  what  young  girls  should  read.  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying  that,  taking  the  question  all  round, 
the  safest,  wisest,  most  sensible  way  out  of  the  difficulty, 
is  to  let  girls  read  from  childhood  anything  they  like. 
Never  make  a  child  come  and  ask,  never  forbid  this  book 
or  that ;  the  moment  you  do,  you  get  into  a  sea  of  hopeless 
difficulties.  Where  a  girl  is  pure-minded,  nothing  will 
hurt  her ;  where  she  is  not,  the  forbidding  of  one  book 


DAUGHTERS  333 

and  allowing  another  raises  a  curiosity  which  will  do  far 
more  harm  than  leaving  it  alone.  All  that  is  harmful  in 
the  Bible  or  Shakespeare  is  simply  not  understood.  Why 
should  it  not  be  the  same  with  other  books?  No  one 
ever  dreams  of  what  they  do  not  know.  Dreams  often 
distort  and  twist  our  knowledge  ;  no  dream  ever  instructs 
us  in  anything  of  which  we  are  ignorant. 

Without  forbidding  any  one  book  or  other,  it  would 
be  wise  for  a  mother  to  recommend  her  daughter  not  to 
read  the  current  novels  of  the  day,  at  the  time  they  are 
being  continually  discussed  in  public,  if  they  are  of  a 
nature  which  unfits  her  to  join  in  the  conversation.  It 
is  not  that  there  is  harm  in  having  read  the  book,  but 
there  are  some  things  which  it  is  impossible  for  a  girl  to 
talk  about.  In  Eichter's  '  Levana,'  which  I  mention 
elsewhere,  there  are  some  excellent  passages  on  this  very 
subject.  In  this  permission  to  read  or  not  to  read  books, 
as  in  all  else  that  seriously  concerns  the  education  of 
children,  the  all-important  thing  is  that  the  father  and 
mother  should  agree.  Nothing  has  so  bad  an  effect  on 
children,  and  they  are  quick  to  learn  it,  as  that  father 
thinks  one  thing  and  mother  another.  A  wife  had  far 
better  allow  a  fault  to  pass  than  try  to  stop  that  which 
she  knows  her  husband  would  allow  ;  and  a  husband  had 
far  better  back  the  mother  when  he  thinks  her  wrong 
than  condemn  her  before  her  children.  There  is  an  old 
saying  that  widows'  children  turn  out  well.  I  do  not 
think  this  means  that  women  are  more  fitted  to  manage 
a  family  alone  than  men  are,  but  men  very  rarely  give  the 
subject  their  consideration.  There  is  nothing,  when  men 
really  try,  that  they  do  not  do  better  than  women — from 
the  highest  in  art  and  literature,  to  the  humblest  cooking 
and  tailoring.  I  think  the  old  saw  merely  means  that  one 
will  and  one  law  are  better  than  a  divided  judgment.  If 
a  woman  has  strong  views  on  education,  let  her  begin  by 


334     POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY  GARDEN 

educating  and  persuading  her  husband.  If  she  cannot 
do  this,  let  her  simply  try  and  carry  out  his  wishes  and 
views,  whatever  they  are. 

Not  an  unusual  trouble  of  family  life  is  that  the 
energetic,  and  those  who  are  happy  through  employing 
themselves,  no  matter  in  what  way,  are  apt  to  be  a  sore 
trial  to  the  idle  and  to  those  who  want  to  be  amused  and 
excited.  Many  of  us  know  the  disappointment  of  rushing 
into  a  room,  anxious  to  confide  something  of  great  or  no 
importance  to  a  sympathetic  human  being,  and  finding 
presented  towards  us  what  can  only  be  described  as  a 
busy  back,  and  the  chilled  feeling  which  results  from 
the  doubt  whether  or  not  we  have  any  right  to  disturb  it. 

Sometimes  the  parents  are  idle  and  the  children 
industrious,  which  is  perhaps  the  most  common.  The 
children  must  then  not  exact  an  interest  in  their  work, 
which  they  are  not  likely  to  get.  Schopenhauer  says : 
'  Whoever  seriously  takes  up  and  pursues  an  object  that 
does  not  lead  to  material  advantages  must  not  count  on 
the  sympathy  of  his  contemporaries.' 

When  parents  are  the  energetic,  hard-working  ones, 
let  them  remember  a  passage  in  a  letter  of  Madame  de 
StaeTs,  whose  biography  is  so  interesting  because  she 
represents  in  a  large  sense  what  most  women  are  in  a 
smaller.  She  writes  from  England  in  1813  : — '  II  n'y  a 
point  de  ressources  dans  mes  enfants;  ils  sont  e'teints, 
singulier  effet  de  ma  flamme.'  So  often  children  by  their 
very  natures  are  only  contrasts  to  ourselves.  What  our 
children  are  born,  they  remain  ;  of  that  I  am  sure.  By 
this  I  mean  that  there  are  certain  qualities  of  character 
which  we  can  no  more  change  than  we  can  alter  the 
colour  of  the  hair  and  eyes.  What  we  can  do  is  to  help 
each  one  to  make  the  best  of  what  he  or  she  actually  is,  still 
better  said  by  an  old  saint,  '  Do  not  try  to  be  not  what 
you  are,  but  very  well  what  you  are  ! ' 


DAUGHTERS  335 

How  many  years  ago  it  is  since  John  Stuart  Mill 
wrote :  '  When  will  education  consist,  not  in  repressing 
any  mental  faculty  or  power,  from  the  uncontrolled  action 
of  which  danger  is  apprehended,  but  in  training  up  to  its 
proper  strength  the  corrective  and  antagonistic  power  ?  ' 
This  is  only  very  old  wisdom  in  other  words,  as  it  is 
Aristotle  who  says  that  true  virtue  is  placed  at  an  equal 
distance  between  the  opposite  vices. 

This  quoting  the  wisdom  of  others  you  perhaps  will 
think  very  cheap  philosophy.  It  is  better,  however,  than 
trying,  like  Sydney  Smith,  to  write  a  book  of  maxims,  and 
failing  to  do  so,  as  he  himself  says  he  never  got  further 
than  the  following  :  '  Towards  the  age  of  forty,  women 
get  tired  of  being  virtuous  and  men  of  being  honest.'  I 
must,  all  the  same,  admit  that  there  are  many  less  true 
sayings  than  this  one. 

A  tendency  of  the  present  day  is  towards  a  kind  of 
hardness — at  any  rate,  outwardly.  It  is  not  the  fashion  to 
be  low-spirited,  and  for  a  woman  to  cry  in  public  is  thought 
a  shame.  I  confess  I  think  there  is  a  certain  danger  in 
the  cultivation  of  qualities  in  women  that  bring  forth  a 
sort  of  glittering  brightness  which  gives  out  light,  not 
heat,  and  therefore  fails  to  warm.  Perhaps  this  suppres- 
sion is  the  very  thing  that  helps  to  encourage  one  of  the 
well-known  complications  of  family  life — namely,  friend- 
ships. The  difficulty  follows  us  through  life,  as  we  all 
know  how  hard  it  often  is  to  appreciate  our  friends' 
friends.  This,  however,  is  not  of  much  importance,  as 
the  friends  of  our  friends  we  can  more  or  less  avoid 
without  discourtesy.  But  with  the  friends  of  our  near 
relations  the  matter  assumes  considerable  importance, 
and  we  absolutely  owe  it  to  them  to  treat  their  friends 
with  extreme  courtesy  and  kindness,  however  little 
may  be  our  sympathy  towards  them,  or  however  critically 
we  may  judge  them. 


336  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

Some  people  are  born  without  what  Mr.  George 
Meredith  so  well  describes  as  '  the  gift  of  intimacy.'  They 
would  be  reserved,  even  in  love,  the  only  key  that  ever 
unlocks  such  hearts.  Friendships  they  have  none,  either 
with  their  own  sex  or  with  the  other.  No  doubt  life  is 
simpler  to  such  people ;  to  others  it  would  be  unbearably 
lonely.  There  are  a  few  women  who  would  have  been 
very  glad  of  friends,  but  whose  loyalty  to  the  disloyal 
around  them  forces  them  into  loneliness  and  silence,  for 
there  is  no  friendship  in  the  world  without  confidence. 

Friendships  are  safety-valves,  and  the  wisdom  of 
safety-valves  is  easy  to  appreciate.  All  the  same,  these 
intimacies  must  be  regulated  and  conducted  upon  the 
rules  of  civilised  society.  I  love  the  young  who  wish  to 
fight  conventionalities  and  turn  and  boldly  face  Mrs. 
Grundy  ;  but  I  despise  the  old  who  do  not  help  the  young 
to  see  that  they  are  only  making  useless  martyrs  of  them- 
selves in  a  cause  which  is,  at  the  bottom,  not  noble  and 
not  great,  but  only  a  method  of  giving  vent  to  their  own 
selfishness  and  self-indulgence.  Before  you  fight  con- 
ventionality you  must  prove  that  conventionality  is 
wrong,  and  this  can  never  be  done  by  the  young.  To 
deny  friendships  to  natures  that  require  them  is  to  force 
on  them  what  Mr.  Morley  calls  '  the  awful  loneliness  of 
life — a  life  full  of  acquaintances  as  a  cake  is  full  of 
currants,  no  two  ever  touching  each  other.'  It  is  one  of 
the  great  sorrows  of  a  high  position  that  people  cannot 
have  intimates.  Froude  says  somewhere  :  '  The  great  are 
expected  to  be  universally  gracious,  and  universal 
graciousness  is  perhaps  only  possible  to  the  insincere 
or  the  commonplace,  or  to  the  supremely  great  and 
fortunate.' 

We  cannot  give  anyone  our  experience.  This  is  a 
common  saying,  and  quite  true  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  old.  Nevertheless,  if  the  young  determine,  through 


DAUGHTERS  337 

independence  or  pride,  to  work  out  their  lives  for  them- 
selves, and  refuse  to  be  helped,  guided,  or  taught  by  the 
knowledge  and  experience  of  those  who  have  gone  before 
them — in  the  books  of  the  dead  and  the  speaking  of  the 
living — they  throw  themselves  back  in  the  race  in  a  way 
that  generally,  to  my  knowledge,  has  resulted  in  failure. 
Even  cases  of  marked  talent  and  individuality  must  learn 
from  others.  In  art  and  in  music  they  must  all  work,  at 
first,  after  the  manner  of  someone  else.  Supposing,  for 
instance,  that  Albert  Diirer  had  lived  in  Venice,  he  would 
have  been  a  Venetian  painter,  and  not  have  worked  on  the 
lines  of  the  old  German  painters.  This  would  have  been 
greatly  to  his  advantage.  It  is  true  that  circumstances  do 
not  make  talent,  but  they  immensely  influence  it;  so 
nothing  in  the  lives  and  training  of  the  young  who  are 
no  longer  children,  especially  if  they  are  precocious  and 
clever,  is  unimportant. 

On  looking  back,  one  of  the  disappointments  of  my 
life,  when  I  recollect  how  the  matter  was  discussed  and 
written  about  in  my  girlhood,  is  the  little  progress  that 
has  been  made  in  the  laying-by  and  organising  of 
fortunes  for  girls.  I  do  not  only  mean  leaving  them  a 
few  thousand  pounds  at  the  death  of  both  parents,  but, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  either  giving  them  a  sum  of  money, 
as  the  French  do,  when  they  marry,  or  giving  them  a 
sufficient  allowance,  according  to  the  fortunes  of  the 
father,  if  they  take  to  any  employment  and  do  not  marry. 
The  modern  hack  phrase,  that  children  owe  their  parents 
nothing  for  bringing  them  into  the  world  without  their 
leave,  is  of  course  ridiculous ;  but  I  do  think  a  right- 
minded  father  ought  to  realise  that  a  woman  who  has 
not  a  penny  she  can  call  her  own,  is  a  kind  of 
slave.  The  same  thing  applies  to  a  husband  if  a  wife 
goes  to  him  with  nothing.  She  cannot  even  give  a 
present  without  asking  him  for  the  money,  I  think 


338  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

girls  would  be  much  happier  if  at  twenty-one  they  were 
given  allowances  sufficient,  not  only  for  dress — which 
should  begin,  as  with  boys,  much  earlier — but  to  cover 
all  expenses,  except  board  and  lodging  :  namely,  journeys, 
theatres,  doctors,  dentists,  amusements,  masters,  and  so 
on.  One  girl  would  spend  her  allowance  in  one  way  and 
one  in  another,  but  she  would  get  as  much  profit  or  pleasure 
to  her  individual  self  out  of  it  as  she  could  afford.  If  she 
were  well,  she  would  not  want  doctors  and  dentists  ;  if 
she  were  ill,  she  would  not  want  amusements  :  and  in 
either  case  she  would  be  learning  the  value  of  money. 
We  all  know  the  discussions  that  go  on  in  every  family. 
In  one  case  the  mother  wishes  her  daughter  to  have 
singing  and  piano  lessons,  though  the  daughter  is 
indifferent ;  the  master  is  hired,  and  the  money  and  time 
are  more  or  less  wasted.  In  another  case  the  daughter 
is  pining  for  drawing  lessons,  and  the  mother  looks  upon 
i  t  as  rather  a  waste  of  money.  Both  these  cases  would 
be  adjusted  if  the  deciding  of  their  own  education  and 
the  paying  of  the  lessons  rested  with  the  grown-up 
daughters.  This  ought  not  to  prevent  mothers  and 
daughters  from  discussing  together  what  is  the  most 
desirable  course  to  adopt ;  it  merely  leaves  the  ultimate 
decision  with  the  learner.  In  fact,  I  would  extend  these 
family  discussions  to  all  the  important  matters  of  life,  and 
even  call  in  some  reliable  friend  or  relation,  whose  opinion 
is  valued  by  all  parties,  to  help  in  the  decision,  on  the 
lines  of  that  powerful  legal  arrangement  which,  in 
French  family  life,  is  called  conseil  de  famille.  We  get 
so  many  useful  hints  on  family  life  by  the  reading  of 
biographies  that,  to  my  mind,  it  is  the  most  interesting  of 
all  literature  for  the  middle-aged.  In  Darwin's  '  Life '  I 
was  immensely  struck  by  an  uncle  interfering  to  over- 
rule the  decision  of  the  good  kind  father,  who  had 
refused  the  offer  that  young  Darwin  should  go  for  the 


DAUGHTERS 


339 


scientific  voyage  on  the  '  Beagle.'  The  father  instantly 
yielded  to  the  opinion  of  his  brother,  and  this  perhaps 
decided  the  whole  of  Darwin's  life. 

When  I  say  that  it  is  wise  to  gather  as  many 
opinions  as  we  can,  it  must  always  be  with  the  idea 
of  helping  our  own  judgment,  never  as  putting  the 
responsibility  on  to  others  of  any  important  decision, 
which  ought  to  rest  entirely  with  ourselves,  and  which,  as 
in  the  case  of  Darwin's  father,  we  may  entirely  alter  ;  but 
when  we  change,  we  equally  accept  the  responsibility  of 
any  important  decision  quite  independently  of  the  adviser. 

It  stands  to  reason  that  when  parents  give  their 
children  money  to  spend  according  to  their  own  wishes 
and  tastes,  they  are  acting  a  great  deal  more  unselfishly 
than  when  they  spend  on  their  children,  however 
lavishly,  only  to  make  them  do  what  the  parents  con- 
sider desirable.  This  giving  freedom  to  children  means 
a  good  deal  more  self-sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the  parents, 
and,  as  the  unselfishness  of  one  person  is  very  apt  to 
produce  the  selfishness  of  another,  it  is  a  question  for 
each  parent  to  decide  whether  the  sacrifice  had  better 
come  from  the  old  or  from  the  young.  It  is  an  undeni- 
able fact  that  the  tastes  of  children  are  likely  to  be  the 
reverse,  rather  than  a  repetition,  of  the  tastes  of  their 
parents.  In  weighing  these  questions,  however,  you 
must  always  cast  into  the  scale  the  importance  of  a  true 
knowledge  of  the  value  of  money,  which  nothing  but 
practical  experience  can  give. 

Few  things  bring  such  ruin,  in  every  sense  of  the 
word,  to  the  happiness  of  married  life  as  the  extravagant 
wife — the  wife  who  runs  up  bills,  and  who  amidst  tears 
and  penitence  and  promises  not  to  do  the  same  again, 
immediately  does  so.  Can  anything  as  much  as  this, 
short  of  actual  immorality,  bring  a  respectable  woman  so 
nearly  to  the  level  of  the  unrespectable  ? 

z2 


340    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

Strong  advocate  as  I  am  for  marriage,  I  do  agree 
with  Miss  Frances  Power  Cobbe,  '  That  for  a  woman  to 
fail  to  make  and  keep  a  happy  home  is  to  be  a  greater 
failure,  in  a  true  sense,  than  to  have  failed  to  catch  a 
husband.'  I  have  noted  somewhere  the  following  sentence, 
and  I  think  it  as  true  as  it  is  lofty  in  tone :  '  There  is 
only  one  real  power  in  this  world  for  man  or  woman — 
the  power  given  by  character.  It  carries  far  more  weight 
than  talent  does  without  it.  The  woman  who  cultivates 
unswerving  rectitude,  firm  energy,  and  persevering  good- 
ness, will  become  a  centre  and  a  factor  in  the  lives  of 
others,  wherever  her  lot  is  cast.  All  round  us  we  see 
such  women  forced  by  outside  pressure  into  positions  of 
comparative,  if  not  positive,  prominence,  and  they  have 
no  need  to  whine  over  the  unalterable  fact  of  sex.' 

The  better  a  girl  or  a  woman  is  treated  by  a  father  or 
a  husband  in  the  matter  of  money,  the  more  heavily  does 
the  duty  remain  with  her  to  remember  that,  after  all,  the 
money  is  only  conditionally  hers,  and  that  no  woman  has 
a  right  to  eat  a  man's  food,  dress  with  his  money,  enjoy 
his  luxuries  to  the  full,  and  then  not  in  every  way  try  to 
please  him ;  and  certainly  she  should  never  do  systemati- 
cally that  which  he  distinctly  disapproves.  If  she  cannot 
persuade  him,  she  must  submit  and  do  his  will.  No 
woman  is  really  free  who  cannot  keep  herself ;  and  even 
if  she  earns  her  own  livelihood,  she  has  to  submit  to  her 
employers. 

One  can  hardly  write  a  '  note  '  on  girls  and  avoid  the 
great  subject  of  dress.  Certainly  let  the  young  dress  in 
the  fashion,  in  order  to  be  attractive ;  for  there  is  no  doubt 
that,  even  if  the  fashion  is  ugly,  to  be  dressed  in  the 
fashion  looks  smart.  When  I  was  young  I  was  scolded 
for  trying  always  to  get  the  last  new  pattern  from  Paris. 
I  used  appealingly  to  remark,  '  I  can't  be  graceful,  let  me 
be  smart.'  There  are  always  certain  women  who  can 


DAUGHTERS  341 

dress  artistically  and  peculiarly,  and  who  look  well  in 
whatever  they  put  on ;  but  these  are  the  exception,  and 
their  imitators — as  is  usual  with  imitators — are  apt  to 
adopt  their  faults  rather  than  their  merits.  Exceptional 
dress,  independently  of  the  wearer,  is  rarely,  I  think, 
attractive.  Women  who  have  dropped  out  of  the 
fashion  themselves  are  apt  to  be  a  little  tried,  when 
their  daughters  grow  up,  by  the  dress  of  the  day,  and  to 
think  it  rather  exaggerated  and  ridiculous,  just  as  the 
daughter  would  feel  her  mother's  wedding-gown  to  be 
impossible  and  out-of-date.  A  mother  can  only  give  her 
daughter  general  training,  and  then  leave  her  to  dress 
as  she  likes,  merely  offering  her  the  kindly  criticism  that 
would  be  given  her  by  a  friend  or  a  sister;  for  every 
woman  looks  best  in  that  which  she  herself  has  chosen, 
and  which  is  an  indication  of  her  own  individuality.  By 
this  I  do  not  deny  that  many  a  mother  would  dress  her 
daughter  much  better  than  the  girl  would  dress  herself ; 
but  the  note  of  character  would  be  wanting,  which,  in  my 
opinion,  makes  dress  in  the  long  run  the  most  becoming. 

Even  when  they  are  children,  little  girls  often  surprise 
their  parents  by  saying  something  unexpectedly  different 
from  what  they  have  been  taught.  I  know  a  father  who, 
when  walking  with  his  small  daughter  in  the  streets  of 
London,  stopped  before  the  window  of  a  smart  milliner's 
shop.  When  they  had  looked  and  admired  for  a  little  time, 
the  father,  perhaps  rather  priggishly,  remarked :  '  After 
all,  my  dear,  I  like  simplicity  best.'  The  child  answered : 
'  That's  not  at  all  like  me,  father ;  I  like  splendour  best.' 

Deny  it  as  we  will,  the  real  object  of  dress  is  to 
attract ;  and  for  a  woman  to  dress  herself  in  crimson  and 
purple,  when  she  knows  quite  well  that  her  husband  or 
father  prefers  quiet  colours,  or  even  black,  shows  a 
neglect  of  the  amenities  of  life  that  is  stupid,  if  it  is 
nothing  worse. 


342    POT-POURRI   FROM  A  SURREY   GARDEN 

From  a  higher  point  of  view,  there  is  nothing  so  im- 
portant in  dress  as  the  accentuation  of  what  are  our 
physical  characteristics.  A  fat  girl  in  tight  tailor-made 
clothes  looks  ridiculous.  A  girl  with  a  tall  slight  figure, 
like  a  boy,  looks  well  tight  and  neat,  ready  for  the  active 
exercise  she  is  fit  for.  The  womanly  woman  looks  best 
in  soft  laces  and  ruffles  and  chiffons,  be  she  fat  or  thin. 

Let  middle-aged  and  old  women,  except  when  they 
are  widows,  dress  in  the  fashion  slightly  modified.  They 
are  then  neither  conspicuous  nor  ridiculous.  Is  there 
not  wisdom  in  dressing  rather  in  advance  of  your  years 
than  behind  it  ?  Many  a  dress  lasts  three  or  four  years  ; 
so  we  ought,  at  turning-points  in  our  lives,  to  remember 
that  this  makes  a  difference.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
lamp  of  life  is  not  to  be  measured  by  the  age  of  the  vessel, 
but  by  the  supply  of  the  light.  Prettily  expressed,  I 
admit,  and  there  is  something  in  it,  but  it  is  only  a  half- 
truth,  and  the  Baptismal  Eegister  is  the  best  guide  for  us 
personally.  Nothing  displeases  the  young  so  much  as  to 
see  the  generation  before  them  dressed  too  youthfully, 
and  nothing  so  accentuates  the  years  that  have  passed 
over  a  woman  as  the  outward  display  of  her  having  for- 
gotten them  herself.  I  remember  once  remarking  to  a 
friend  how  well  a  tall,  slight  woman  dressed,  and  how  it 
suited  and  improved  her.  'Yes,'  said  he,  'a  thin,  tall 
woman  is  a  peg  for  clothes ;  but  there  is  all  the  dif- 
ference in  the  world,  as  the  Frenchman  said,  between 
une  belle  taille  and  un  beau  corps.'  So  there  are  con- 
solations in  all  things,  and  many  of  the  great  passions 
of  the  world  have  been  for  plain  women — perhaps  because 
they  themselves  are  so  much  more  grateful  for  the  affec- 
tion given.  Beauty  added  to  other  things  is  a  great 
power ;  let  no  one  despise  it.  It  is  often  easier  for  a 
beautiful  woman  to  behave  well  than  for  her  plainer 
sisters.  She  has  the  ball  at  her  feet,  and  she  knows  it. 


DAUGHTERS  343 

I  have  been  asked  whether  an  unmarried  woman  is 
happier  with  a  profession  or  without  one.  Without  hesita- 
tion of  course  I  answer — '  Yes,  with  a  profession/  especially 
if  it  is  the  outcome  of  any  particular  talent.  The  real 
cause  of  the  happiness  which  ensues  is  that  it  gives  her 
the  same  excuse  and  the  same  ease  to  her  conscience  for 
selfishness  as  a  man  has.  It  always  works  round  to  the 
same  thing — how  much  can  a  woman  evade  her  home 
duties  in  order  to  be  able  to  indulge  in  any  intellectual 
occupation  which  takes  up  her  mind,  to  the  detriment  of 
the  ordinary,  petty  drudgeries  such  as  practically  absorb 
most  women's  lives  ?  The  great  difficulty  for  a  woman 
who  is  head  of  a  house,  or  even  for  a  daughter  who  helps 
much  in  the  management  of  a  house,  allowing  herself  the 
pleasure  of  any  intellectual  employment — be  it  writing,  or 
art,  or  music,  or  even  reading  conducted  as  a  study — is 
that  the  very  meaning  of  work  is  absorption.  Women 
are  by  their  natures  impressionable  and  too  apt  to  become 
engrossed  in  anything  they  are  doing,  to  the  neglect  of 
the  claims  of  others.  It  is  not  exactly  the  time  that  it 
takes  from  the  husband  and  children,  but  the  thoughts  of 
a  woman  are  not  quickly  brought  back  to  the  level  of  her 
ceaseless  duties.  I  heard  once  of  the  wife  of  an  Ambassa- 
dor, who  was  devoted  to  drawing,  having  arranged  for  a 
dinner  for  royalties,  &c.,  planning  the  details  with  her  ser- 
vants in  her  usual  careful  way.  The  day  arrived,  she  had 
time  on  her  hands,  the  weather  was  lovely  ;  she  took  her 
sketching  things  and  went  out.  She  became  so  absorbed 
in  her  drawing  and  the  beauty  of  the  evening  that  the 
royal  guests,  the  husband,  and  the  dinner  became  abso- 
lutely effaced  from  the  tablet  of  her  memory.  She  arrived 
home  at  half-past  nine,  to  find  her  husband  agonised, 
her  guests  expectant  and  a  little  angry,  all  believing  she 
must  have  come  to  some  injury.  This  little  anecdote 
exactly  illustrates  what  I  mean,  and  describes  the  struggle 


344    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

that  goes  on,  more  or  less,  in  many  women's  lives.  Of 
course  the  same  thing  occurs,  to  a  great  degree,  with 
busy  men,  whose  brains  are  often  as  much  occupied,  to  the 
exclusion  of  other  things,  in  the  work  that  interests  them. 
But  since,  as  a  rule,  they  have  more  power  of  arrang- 
ing their  lives  to  suit  their  tastes,  their  absorption  affects 
less  the  happiness  or  convenience  of  others,  and  they 
often  have  a  practical  wife  who  helps  them  out  of  their 
difficulties.  No  doubt  there  are  instances  of  both  men 
and  women  who  have  the  power  of  combining,  in  the 
highest  sense,  both  work  and  play.  A  pathetic  little 
touch  in  a  woman's  biography  is  of  how  Mrs.  Browning 
wrote  '  Aurora  Leigh '  as  an  invalid  in  Paris.  She  was  con- 
stantly interrupted  by  friends  and  visitors,  and  used  quietly 
to  tuck  the  little  bits  of  paper  under  the  pillow  of  her 
sofa,  to  resume  her  imaginative  work  when  again  alone. 
The  complications  of  life  were  lessened  for  her  by  the  fact 
that  she  [inhabited  a  sick-room.  I  think  the  women  who 
will  do  most  for  the  cause  of  their  sex  in  the  future  are 
those  who  cease  to  fight  for  an  equality  with  men,  which 
is  practically  an  impossibility,  and  will  strive,  from  their 
youth  up,  to  keep  a  just  balance  between  duty,  pleasure, 
and  intellectual  pursuits  ;  sometimes  asking  the  help  of 
others  to  decide  when  the  two  last  must  give  way  to  the 
first.  I  am  terribly  tempted  to  scratch  out  this  last 
sentence — it  sounds  so  odiously  priggish ;  and  yet,  of 
course,  we  all  know  there  is  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  it. 

If  a  woman  has  been  ever  so  successful  in  a  profession, 
it  is  my  experience  that  she  gives  it  up  after  marriage. 
Every  man  always  says,  at  the  time  of  engagement,  that 
he  would  not  for  the  world  interfere  with  her  work ;  but 
it  always  ends  in  the  work  being  given  up,  if  the  house  is 
to  be  properly  kept.  Imagine,  if  there  were  sickness  or 
any  other  kind  of  domestic  disaster  in  the  house,  the 
man  would  never  dream  of  giving  up  his  work,  whatever 


DAUGHTERS  345 

it  might  be.  But  think  of  a  woman,  head  of  any  such 
household,  sitting  down  under  the  circumstances  to  write 
a  poem,  or  to  paint  a  picture,  or  going  out  to  her  model- 
ling studio?  The  woman's  profession  must  go  to  the 
wall,  unless  it  is  under  the  very  exceptional  circumstances 
when  the  woman  is  the  bread-winner,  or  even  partially 
so,  and  when  disaster  may  increase  the  necessity  for  her 
earnings. 

Perhaps  many  Englishwomen  would  deny  what  I 
really  believe  to  be  the  truth — namely,  that  passion  is  the 
great  moving  power  of  life,  the  root  of  all  that  is  highest 
and  noblest  in  us,  the  developer  of  all  that  is  artistic, 
intellectual,  affectionate,  and  even  religious  in  ourselves. 
Some  people  may  accuse  me  of  inconsistency  in  saying 
this.  Of  that  I  should  be  proud,  for  can  anything  ever 
approach  the  inconsistency  of  life — especially,  perhaps, 
the  life  of  women?  Women — Englishwomen,  at  all 
events — imagine  that  there  is  but  one  danger  in  having 
strong  feeling,  and  that,  if  that  is  sufficiently  suppressed 
in  the  direction  which  is  natural  and  ordinary,  it  ceases 
to  cause  any  alarm  at  all.  I  do  not  agree  with  this.  It 
is  a  platitude  to  talk  of  the  dual  nature  which  we  all  have 
within  us.  The  contrast  between  these  two  natures  is 
much  more  marked,  and  causes  a  fiercer  struggle,  in 
passionate  natures  than  in  cold  ones. 

Women  as  well  as  men  have  a  twin  within  them, 
often  concealed,  which  represents  all  that  is  strongest 
and  most  lovable  in  their  natures.  They  generally 
have  something  which  they  like  doing  better  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world,  and  which  for  that  reason  is 
very  apt  to  interfere  with  their  duty,  however  innocent 
or  even  meritorious  it  may  be  in  itself,  whether  it  takes 
the  form  of  writing,  art,  politics,  philanthropy,  or  the 
practice  of  religion.  If  a  married  woman  throws  all  this 
power,  so  often  described  as  suppressed  steam,  into  any 


346  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

employment  that  makes  her  daily  duties  tiresome  and 
hateful  to  her,  she  is  yielding  to  a  form  of  self-indulgence 
which  more  or  less  feeds  her  vanity  and  robs  her  home 
and  her  children  of  that  which  is  the  most  vivifying 
portion  of  herself  and  of  the  one  most  likely  to  call  forth 
from  them  both  admiration  and  esteem. 

This  to  many  will  be  a  hard  saying,  as  it  means 
leaving  the  higher  employment  of  women  to  those  who 
are  most  free  from  natural  duties ;  that  is,  generally,  to 
the  unmarried,  who  for  that  very  reason  are  in  some 
ways  the  least  understanding  of  our  sex. 

Mothers  and  fathers  should  never  lose  sight  of  the 
fact,  as  their  daughters  grow  up,  that  confidence  is  only 
likely  to  begin  when  given  first  by  parents  to  children,  from 
the  old  to  the  young.  Sympathy  is  not  the  consequence 
of  confidences,  but  the  magnet  that  attracts  them ;  so 
by  confiding  in  our  children,  we  may  fail  to  get  their 
sympathy,  but  we  are  always  able  to  give  them  ours. 

I  think  that  mothers  might  remind  their  sons  and 
daughters,  especially  when  they  are  grown  up,  how  very 
much  the  old  like  receiving  the  attention  of  the  young, 
and  seeing  that  the  young  have  no  fear  of  them  ;  for  I  do 
not  doubt  that,  if  young  people  really  believed  this,  they 
would  probably  pay  these  attentions  more  often,  with 
both  advantage  and  interest  to  themselves.  There  is  a 
great  deal  to  be  got  out  of  the  experience  and  memories 
of  those  much  older  than  ourselves,  if  we  can  only  make 
them  realise  how  much  we  wish  both  to  hear  and  to  learn. 

In  the  management  of  house  and  children,  as  in  a 
larger  rule,  let  us  remember  that  liberalism  is  a  frame  of 
mind  which  has  for  its  root  the  simple  morality  of  doing 
unto  others  as  you  would  they  should  do  unto  you. 

It  is  a  very  doubtful  question  whether,  in  the  houses 
of  the  fairly  wealthy,  the  daughters  can  be  of  very  much 
help  to  the  mother  unless  she  herself  finds  that  she  has 


DAUGHTERS  347 

more  than  she  likes  to  do,  and  apportions  certain  depart- 
ments— such  as  housekeeping,  card-leaving,  writing  notes, 
or  gardening,  &c. — to  one  or  other  of  the  daughters.  The 
vague  expectation  in  a  mother  that  her  daughter  ought  to 
help  her,  often  results  in  a  good  deal  of  ordering  about,  a 
waste  of  time  on  the  daughter's  part,  and  that  state  of 
things  generally  which  ends  in  friction.  If  a  daughter  is 
unusually  unselfish,  and  constantly  thinking  how  she  can 
please  and  serve  her  mother,  the  result  is  that  the 
daughter  becomes  a  mere  drudge,  while  the  mother  but 
half  appreciates  the  sacrifice  she  has  made  of  her  life. 

We  often  discover  in  families  the  ideal  woman  of 
family  life.  She  is  always  willing  to  immolate  herself 
on  the  altar  of  duty  and  unselfishness,  unconscious  of 
this  at  the  time,  because  to  serve  others  is  her  pleasure, 
and  consequently  for  the  moment  the  development  of 
her  own  nature.  That  woman,  especially  if  she  has 
intelligence  as  well,  fills  a  want  in  the  world  that 
everyone  acknowledges  and  admires.  But,  unless  the 
situation  is  carefully  watched,  she  herself  may  dis- 
cover too  late  that  she  has  let  her  youth  go  by  in  the 
suppression  of  herself,  and,  without  intending  it,  has 
ruined  her  own  life.  The  one  thing  that  is  of  vital 
importance  is  that  the  young  should  never  be  sacrificed 
to  the  old  or  the  healthy  to  the  unhealthy.  Even  if  the 
mother  and  daughter  work  well  together,  there  is  hardly 
enough  to  occupy  the  time  of  two  women,  and  divided 
rule  never  is  satisfactory.  It  is  a  common  view  that 
housekeeping  is  rather  an  inferior  employment  for  women, 
and  only  done  well  by  the  commonplace,  who  are  devoted 
to  it.  I  do  not  think  this,  though  I  quite  admit  that 
housekeeping  is  often  very  tiresome — or,  rather,  I  would 
say  wearisome — and  every  woman  pines  to  get  away  from 
it  now  and  then.  Every  head  of  a  house — be  she  wife, 
mother  or  daughter — has  to  do  it,  and  no  woman  worth 


348    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

her  salt  likes  to  do  a  thing  and  do  it  badly.  If  it  is  badly 
done,  it  is  a  humiliation ;  when  it  is  well  done,  it  becomes 
a  pride :  and  the  approval  of  those  we  love  is  always  a 
joy.  Men  differ,  of  course,  very  much  in  their  apprecia- 
tion of  cooking  and  other  housekeeping  matters.  When 
the  man  cares,  though  he  scold,  or  sigh  and  look  miserable 
when  things  go  wrong,  it  is  more  stimulating  to  the 
woman  than  when  he  appears  indifferent ;  but  all  men 
and  most  women  appreciate  a  well-kept  house,  though  I 
have  heard  there  are  some  women  who  make  such 
grievance  over  their  duties  that  the  man  almost  wishes 
they  were  left  alone. 

One  of  the  most  useful  gifts  in  life  is  to  be  able  to 
organise,  command,  and  instruct  others ;  to  use,  in  fact, 
the  materials  under  your  hand,  instead  of  doing  every- 
thing yourself.  Servants  certainly  do  not  respect  those 
who  do  their  work  for  them,  and  the  irresponsibility  of 
the  situation  only  makes  them  careless  and  indifferent. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  should  be  thoroughly  realised  that 
no  one  can  depute  to  others  the  control  of  their  ex- 
penditure without  greatly  increasing  it. 

In  cooking,  in  dressmaking,  in  gardening,  it  is,  so  to 
speak,  the  scientific  and  aesthetic  part  which  really  ought 
to  be  done  by  the  mistress  of  the  house.  She  has  time 
to  study  the  books  and  newspapers ;  and  if  she  really 
knows  her  work  she  will  find  no  difficulty  in  teaching  it. 

Every  generation  is  known  to  complain  that  servants 
have  become  useless  and  bad.  I  see  no  difference  during 
my  life-time ;  in  fact,  I  should  say  that  the  proportion  of 
good  servants  had  increased,  rather  than  the  contrary. 
Of  course,  their  customs  and  ways  have  changed  with 
telegrams,  posts,  and  railways,  as  have  the  habits  of 
everybody  else  ;  and  if  any  housekeeper  has  moments  of 
depression,  as  we  all  have  when  things  go  cross,  and 
thinks  the  world  is  going  to  the  dogs,  may  I  recommend 


DAUGHTERS  349 

a  little  study  of  eighteenth-century  literature — above  all, 
Boswell's  '  Life  of  Johnson.' 

The  spread  of  education  is  often  brought  forward  as  a 
reason  for  the  deterioration  of  servants.  I  must  put  in  a 
protest  against  this.  I  never  will  believe  it !  On  the 
contrary,  Mill's  definition  of  education  will  always  remain 
true  to  me :  '  The  best  employment  of  all  the  means 
which  can  be  made  use  of  for  rendering  the  human  mind, 
to  the  greatest  possible  degree,  the  cause  of  human 
happiness.' 

It  is  essential,  for  the  well-regulating  of  a  house,  that 
the  orders  to  servants  should  be  given  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. Everything  except  flower- arranging  ought  to  be  got 
through  in  an  hour.  When  people  complain  that  house- 
keeping takes  so  long,  it  is  either  that  they  are  ignorant 
and  undecided,  or  that  they  are  out  of  health,  and  come 
down  very  late  in  the  morning,  and  things  get  out  of 
order  from  being  left  to  the  servants  for  several  days  in 
the  week. 

I  fear  many  young  people  will  probably  think  me 
priggish  and  disagreeable  if  I  say  that,  be  a  woman  ever 
so  delicate,  it  is  far  better  for  her  to  get  up  early  and  see 
to  her  work,  even  if  she  finds  it  necessary  to  take  a  rest  at 
twelve  or  three.  I  am  a  great  believer  in  early  rising, 
partly  because  it  implies  a  generally  healthy  life,  and 
means  that  there  are  no  large  late  dinners  or  late  going 
to  bed ;  for  it  is  impossible  to  burn  the  candle  at  both  ends. 
I  think  most  women  would  work  best  in  the  morning ; 
but  I  quite  admit  that,  owing  to  the  faults  of  family  life, 
time  is  seldom  entirely  her  own,  except  in  the  privacy 
of  her  room,  either  at  night  or  in  the  very  early  morning. 

Some  years  ago  I  was  asked  by  a  rich  woman  who 
had  come  to  London  with  a  view  to  entertaining,  how  I 
did  it.  She  had  come  prepared  to  make  a  regular  London 
list  of  unknown  swells,  and  was  rather  surprised  when  I 


350    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 

answered  :  '  I  never  send  out  formal  invitations,  and  I 
never  ask  anyone  who  is  not  more  or  less  a  personal 
friend  of  my  own,  or  someone  brought  at  the  request  of 
one  of  these  friends,  this  last  being  a  distinct  element  of 
success.'  If  two  people  are  really  happy  in  a  room,  it 
sheds  a  glow  of  brightness  all  around  them.  This,  to  my 
mind,  applies  to  all  private  and  unofficial  entertaining 
which  is  done  for  pleasure — one's  own  and  that  of  others 
— rather  than  duty.  All  entertaining,  to  be  good,  should 
be  a  collection  of  people  who  meet  because  they  either 
really  know  each  other  or  would  like  to  do  so.  The 
moment  people  are  brought  together  for  any  reason 
connected  with  duty,  the  party,  unless  it  is  very  large,  is 
sure  to  go  badly  and  to  be  dull.  The  dinners  we  all  dread 
are  those  where  the  host  and  hostess  ask  people  to  meet 
each  other  because  they  have  duties  of  various  kinds  to 
pay  off.  The  deadly  dulness  of  all  garden  parties  in  the 
country  is  a  marked  example  of  the  extraordinary  flatness 
that  results  from  turning  society  into  a  social  duty,  and 
having  to  ask  a  whole  neighbourhood  at  once,  which  is  in 
no  sense  true  hospitality.  Duty  and  charity  are  excellent 
things,  but  they  cannot  be  turned  into  agreeable  social 
gatherings. 

I  think  it  often  surprises  people,  and  especially  men, 
that  middle-aged  women,  even  those  who  have  no 
daughters,  are  so  energetic  and  indefatigable  in  their 
efforts  to  go  into  society  in  a  way  they  rather  avoided 
than  courted  when  they  were  younger.  Society  is  always 
only  too  glad  to  shunt  the  middle-aged,  and  the  middle- 
aged  themselves  so  often  feel  it  to  be  only  a  treadmill.  I 
am  sure  the  secret  is  to  be  found,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, in  the  love  of  power.  It  gives  people  the 
opportunities  to  help,  not  only  their  own  children,  if  they 
have  any,  but  other  people  in  whom  they  may  happen  to 
be  interested,  who  are  often  benefited  by  an  opportune 


DAUGHTERS  351 

word  in  high  places.  This  is  what  transforms  the  tread- 
mill and  the  burden  and  the  labour  into  something  so 
worth  while  that  it  almost  becomes  a  pleasure. 

In  entertaining  at  home,  our  object  should  be  rather 
to  help  those  who  want  help,  and  who  may  unex- 
pectedly rise  into  positions  of  power  and  trust,  than 
always  to  be  making  up  to  those  who  are  already  in  high 
places,  and  who  are  full  of  suspicion  with  regard  to  the 
civilities  that  are  paid  to  them.  To  practise  the  wisdom 
of  life,  without  standing  on  the  stilts  of  higher  morality, 
is  rather  a  virtue  than  a  vice  in  the  middle-aged.  It  is  as 
old  as  JEsop,  who  bids  us  not  to  despise  making  up  to  the 
mice  ;  for  though  you  yourself  may  be  very  much  a  lion, 
the  day  may  come  when  you  will  need  the  services  of  a 
mouse.  We  all  know  La  Fontaine's  summing-up  of  the 
old  story  : — '  II  faut,  autant  qu'on  peut,  obliger  tout  le 
monde.  On  a  souvent  besoin  d'un  plus  petit  que  soi.' 

One  of  the  unexpected  consolations  to  a  woman  who 
is  leaving  her  youth  behind  her,  is  that  she  can  take 
broader  and  more  lenient  views  of  the  moral  faults 
indulged  in  by  her  friends  and  acquaintances.  It  is  a 
revelation  that  comes  sooner  or  later  to  every  woman 
how  much  is  excused  and  sanctioned  by  society  which 
in  her  youth  would  have  seemed  to  her  impossible. 
The  middle-aged  woman  may  often  say  to  herself,  half  in 
fun,  '  After  all,  a  little  remorse  is  better  than  a  vast 
amount  of  regret.  At  any  rate,'  she  adds,  '  I  will  not 
police  society.  I  might  crush  the  weak,  and  I  should  do 
no  harm  to  the  strong.'  Is  it  not  true  and  even  beautiful 
that '  tout  comprendre  c'est  tout  pardonner '  ?  Middle-age 
is  essentially  the  time  of  a  lowered  moral  standard.  This 
is  the  attitude  of  mind,  let  us  say,  between  forty  and  fifty 
— a  little  sooner  or  a  little  later,  according  to  the  tem- 
perament. Then  comes  another  phase,  which  is  in  no 
sense  an  hypocritical  one.  As  the  young  around  us  grow 


352  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

into  men  and  women,  with  the  temptations  and  trials  that 
life  must  always  bring,  we  recall  our  own  youth,  and  a 
feeling  of  responsibility,  almost  of  awe,  comes  over  us. 
Anyone  who  has  gone  through  the  ages  would  know  what 
I  mean.  To  forgive  and  excuse  the  mistakes  and  faults 
of  life  is  a  very  different  thing  from  helping  the  young 
out  of  the  strait  way.  It  has  been  truly  said  that  it  is 
all  very  well  to  sneer  at  commonplace  morality  in  the 
abstract ;  but  the  moment  it  is  a  question  of  any  young 
people  who  are  dear  to  us,  we  cannot  help  desiring  it  for 
them,  though  we  may  have  laughed  at  it  for  ourselves. 
Then  the  young  think  the  old  uncharitable,  narrow- 
minded,  and  unkind ;  but  they  are  not  so.  One  of  the 
saddest  things  in  life  is  the  isolation  of  the  old.  They 
can  partly  understand  the  young,  but  the  young  never  can 
understand  them,  for  are  they  not  far  away  along  a  road 
the  young  have  never  seen  ? 

Strange,  is  it  not,  that  of  the  myriads  who 
Before  us  passed  the  door  of  darkness  through, 
Not  one  returns  to  tell  us  of  the  road, 
Which,  to  discover,  we  must  travel  too  ? 

Omar  Khayyam. 


APPENDIX 


JAPANESE  ART  OF  ARRANGING   CUT 
FLOWERS1 

IT  is  now  some  years  since  Mr.  J.  Conder's  excellent  book, 
'  The  Flowers  of  Japan  and  the  Art  of  Floral  Arrangement,' 
was  first  published.  But  the  principles  laid  down  in  it  have  so 
little  penetrated  the  art  of  cut-flower  arrangements  in  England 
that  it  may  be  assumed  either  that  the  book  is  still  very  little 
known  or  that  its  teaching  has  been  set  down  as  unsuited  to 
English  flowers  and  flower-vases.  The  book  is  not  published 
in  England,  but  almost  any  bookseller  will  get  it  from  Japan ; 
the  cost  is  2Z.  2s.  The  coloured  plates,  to  which  chiefly  this 
high  price  is  due,  do  not  materially  contribute  to  the  expounding 
of  the  theory  and,  although  full  of  character  and  beauty  in 
themselves,  could  be  omitted  without  loss  to  the  main  object 
of  the  book.  A  smaller  and  much  cheaper  edition  of  the  work 
could  then  be  produced  and  published  in  England.3 

1  From  the  Garden  of  October  6,  1894. 

2  Mr.  Conder  has  lately  published  three  articles  on  the  same  subject 
in  the  October,  December  '96,  and  January  '97  numbers  of  the  Studio — 
that  unusually  artistic  magazine  which  is  to  be  had  monthly  for  one  shilling. 
Mr.  Conder's  articles  are  beautifully  illustrated  with  numerous  plates 
of  Japanese  designs,  reproduced  from  photographs ;  and  in  the  text  he 
sums  up  many  of  the  most  interesting  points  contained  in  his  book.     He 
does  not  suggest  that  the  art  of  which  he  writes  could  be  applied  to  the 
arrangement  of  cut  flowers  in  England,  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  these 
articles — which  are,  unfortunately,  already  out  of  print — may  be  re- 
published  in  book  form.     The  great  beauty  of  the  illustrations  would  do 
more  to  spread  the  practice  of  the  art  amongst  English  people  than  any 
written  theory  upon  it. — C.  L.,  March  1897. 

A  A 


354    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

In  the  meanwhile,  however,  it  is  my  object  to  spread  its 
teaching  and  to  show  how,  with  but  slight  modifications  and 
relaxation  from  the  stricter  Japanese  rules,  this  artistic  science 
may  be  adapted  to  English  flowers  and  English  drawing-rooms. 
It  has  a  strong  claim  to  being  adopted  by  all  lovers  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  practical  combined  because,  first,  these 
decorations  have  a  quite  unique  beauty  and  refinement; 
secondly,  cut  flowers  and  shrubs  live  long  in  water  when  sup- 
ported by  a  flower-holder  in  the  Japanese  way,  to  be  described 
presently ;  thirdly,  only  very  few  flowers  or  branches  are 
required — a  great  advantage  to  those  who  have  but  small 
gardens,  to  people  living  in  towns  where  flowers  are  expensive, 
and  for  the  seasons  of  the  year  when  flowers  are  scarce.  Also 
an  extremely  decorative  effect  can  be  produced  without  making 
the  room  airless  from  the  scent  of  many  flowers.  Fourthly,  the 
infinite  variety  of  design  it  is  possible  to  produce  with  but  few 
branches  on  the  Japanese  principle  as  compared  to  the  English 
may  be  likened  to  the  number  of  changes  that  can  be  rung  on  a 
few  bells  when  a  given  system  is  followed,  whereas  the  different 
bells  rung  simultaneously  produce  only  one,  and  that  a  dis- 
cordant, sound. 

Eoughly  speaking,  the  Japanese  art  of  cut-flower  decorations 
may  be  classified  into  three  fundamental  principles  : — 

1.  Not  alone  the  flowers  and  leaves,  but  also  the  stems  or 
branches  should  be  considered  as  part  of  the  design — in  fact,  it 
is  the  most  important  part. 

2.  The  branches  are  not  allowed  to  lean  against  the  edge 
of  the  vase,  as  in  the  English   manner,  but  must  be  firmly 
supported  either  by  a  wooden  fixer  fitted  into  the  neck  of  the 
vase,  or  by  coils  of  iron  if  open  basin-shaped  or  flat-bottomed 
vessels  are  used,  this  giving  to  the  stems  the  appearance  of 
growth  and  self-support. 

3.  Only  such  flowers  and  trees  as   are   easily  obtainable 
should  be  used.     Rarity  is  not  considered  a  merit,  and  foreign 
or  out-of-the-way  plants  are  only  permitted  to  be  used  by  those 
who  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  their  growth, 
characteristics,  &c.     The  flowers  used  should  be  in  season,  and 
the  design  of  the  decoration  suited  to  its  position  in  the  room — 
i.e.  if  under  a  picture,  on  a  shelf,  in  the  centre  of  an  alcove, 
&c. — as  well  as  adapted  to  the  vase  which  holds  it. 


APPENDIX 


355 


Although  one  of  my  objects  is  to  show  how  much  the 
English  method  may  be  improved  without  too  great  a  sub- 
servience to  the  strictest  laws  of  the  Japanese  art,  yet  it  would 
be  difficult  to  make  myself  understood  by  the  uninitiated  without 
first  giving  an  outline  of  that  science,  which  was  originally,  it  is 
supposed,  a  religious  rite,  and  which  to-day  is  still  a  much- 
reverenced  art  in  Japan.  For  this  purpose  I  shall  quote  freely 
from  Mr.  Conder's  book,  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  improve 


JAPANESE  EOSE    (llOSA   RUGOSA)   IN   A   METAL  TASK 

upon  his  lucid  and  concise  treatment  of  the  subject.  The 
following  are  selected  as  the  most  important  rules  to  be 
observed : — 

The  surface  oi  the  water  in  which  the  flowers  are  placed  is 
technically  considered  to  be  the  soil  from  which  the  floral 
growth  springs,  and  the  designer  must  here  convey  the  impres- 
sion of  stability  and  strength. 

The  springing,  or  point  of  origin  of  the  floral  group,  is 

A  A  2 


356    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY  GARDEN 


FLOWER   FASTENERS 


APPENDIX 


357 


of  great  importance,  and  the  firm  and  skilful  fixing  of  the  steins 
or  branches  in  the  vessel  which  holds  them  is  one  of  the  most 
difficult  parts  of  the  manipulation.  Ordinarily,  the  stems  are 
held  in  position  by  small  cylindrical  pieces  of  wood,  fitting 
tightly  across  the  neck  of  the  flower  vase,  and  having  a  slit, 
wider  above  than  below,  for  threading  them  through.  The 
wedge-shaped  form,  wider  towards  the  top,  which  is  given  to 
the  slit  allows  slightly  different  inclinations  to  be  imparted  to  the 
several  branches.  The  fastener  should  be  fixed  about  half  an 
inch  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  should  not  be  visible 
from  the  front  of  the  vessel.  Some  schools  affect  a  rustic 
simplicity  in  their  appliances,  and  employ  a  naturally  forked 
twig  to  hold  the  flowers  in  position.  For  arrangements  in 
neckless  vases,  such  as  sand-bowls  or  shallow  tubs,  other  sorts 
of  fasteners  are  necessary.  One  kind  consists  of  a  sheet  of 
copper  perforated  with  holes  of  different  sizes,  to  receive  the 
extremities  of  the  different  stems.  Another  fastener  is  made 
of  rings  or  different  sections  of  bamboo  of  varying  diameters 
attached  to  a  wooden  board,  the  stems  finding  lodgment  in  the 
sockets  thus  formed,  and  being  further  held  in  position  by 
pebbles  being  placed  over  them. 

The  direction  of  the  stems  at  starting  need  not  be  strictly 
vertical ;  but,  if  curved,  the  curves  should  be  strong  ones. 

The  artist  studiously  avoids  an  equal- sided  or  symmetrical 
arrangement,  but  obtains  a  balance  of  a  more  subtle  kind. 

The  triple  arrangement  may  be  taken  as  the  original  model 
of  all  arrangements.  The  Principal  is  the  central  and  longest 
line  of  the  design,  and  is  made  to  form  a  double  curve,  with  the 
upper  and  lower  extremities  nearly  vertical  and  in  a  continuous 
line,  the  general  shape  being  that  of  an  archer's  bow.  The 
Secondary  line  should  be  about  half,  and  the  Tertiary  line 
about  one  quarter  of  the  length  of  the  Principal,  supposing  all 
to  be  straightened  out ;  and  these  two  lines  are  arranged  on 
different  sides  of  the  Principal  in  graceful  double  curves  of 
varied  character.  As  a  general  rule,  the  Secondary  has  a  more 
vertical  and  the  Tertiary  a  more  lateral  tendency,  the  former 
being  on  the  outside  of  the  arched  bow  formed  by  the  Principal, 
and  the  latter  making  a  counterpoise  on  iis  hollow  side.  By 
changing  the  direction  and  giving  a  different  character  to 
the  curves  of  these  three  lines,  a  great  variety  of  design  is 
produced. 


Principal 


'Secondary' 


TRILINEAL   ARRANGEMENT    OF   STEMS 


APPENDIX  359 

There  is  another  style  of  design  applied  to  a  large  class 
of  flower  arrangements,  in  which  the  Principal  line  of  the 
composition  has  a  horizontal,  or  almost  horizontal,  direction ; 
the  intention  of  such  compositions  being  to  suggest  floral  growth 
on  the  edges  of  cliffs  or  banks,  when  used  in  hanging  vessels  or 
vases  placed  on  raised  shelves. 

The  different  lines  have  been  spoken  of  as  if  existing  in  one 
vertical  plane  parallel  to  the  spectator ;  but  actually  these  lines 
have  also  directions  of  varying  degrees  forward  or  backward. 
In  other  words,  the  extreme  points  of  these  lines  would  require 
a  solid  and  not  a  plane  figure  for  their  enclosure. 

The  various  directions  imparted  to  plants  and  branches 
of  trees  on  the  above  principles  are  obtained  first  by  a  careful 
selection  of  suitable  material,  then  by  twisting,  bending,  build- 
ing together  and  fixing  at  the  base,  and  lastly  by  means  of 
cutting  and  clipping  off  defective  or  superfluous  parts. 

Flower  arrangements  are  made  sometimes  with  one  species 
of  tree  or  plant  alone,  and  sometimes  with  a  combination  of 
two  or  more  species.  The  use  of  many  different  kinds  of  flowers 
in  one  composition  is  opposed  to  the  principles  of  the  purer 
styles. 

In  arranging  two  or  more  species  in  one  composition,  variety 
must  be  sought  by  combining  trees  and  plants.  In  a  three-line 
composition  the  branches  of  a  tree  should  never  be  *  supported ' 
on  both  sides  by  a  plant ;  nor  should  a  plant  be  placed  in  the 
centre  with  a  tree  arrangement  on  either  side.  The  two 
branches  of  the  same  kind  must  of  necessity  be  used,  but  they 
should  adjoin,  not  sandwich,  the  remaining  one.  For  example, 
a  composition  with  Irises  (plant)  in  the  centre  and  branches 
of  Azalea  (tree)  and  Camellia  (tree)  on  either  side  would  be 
defective.  A  correct  composition  would  be  one  with  a  Plum 
branch  (tree)  in  the  centre,  with  a  Pine  branch  (tree)  on  one 
side  and  Bamboo  stem  (plant)  on  the  other.  In  cases  of  variety 
being  obtained  by  land  and  water  plants,  this  rule  is  sometimes 
violated. 

The  manipulation  of  different  plants  and  tree- cuttings  with 
the  object  of  preserving  their  vitality  needs  special  study.  In 
some  cases  merely  sharply  cutting  the  extremity  is  sufficient  to 
preserve  the  succulence  ;  but  with  other  material  the  charring 
of  the  end,  or  dipping  in  hot  water  to  soften  it,  is  common. 


360  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 

The  Bamboo  is  particularly  difficult  to  preserve.  The  inner 
divisions  are  generally  removed,  and  the  inside  of  the  tube  filled 
with  spiced  water  or  other  stimulants.  The  object  of  these 
methods  is  to  get  the  water  to  rise  in  the  stem,  so  that  the 
vitality  of  the  bouquet  may  be  preserved  for  days.  Other 
means  are  resorted  to  in  order  to  prevent  the  advanced  blossoms 
falling  off  or  dropping.  In  the  case  of  some  large  and  heavy 
flowers,  invisible  Bamboo  spikes  are  employed  to  keep  them 
erect.  Salt  is  also  applied  at  the  base  of  certain  blossoms,  to 
keep  the  connection  moist,  and  thus  defer  the  shedding  which 
often  takes  place  owing  to  dryness. 

The  flower-vases  are  made  of  wood,  porcelain,  pottery, 
bronze,  brass,  iron,  and  basket-work,  with  wooden,  earthen- 
ware, or  tin  receptacles  inside  for  holding  the  water.  They 
vary  as  much  in  form  as  in  material,  the  most  common 
standing  vessels  being  broad  and  flat,  or  long-necked,  opening 
out  to  a  broad  flat  surface  at  the  mouth ;  tall,  narrow  vases  are 
also  used.  With  the  ordinary  tall  vase,  whether  of  wide  or 
narrow  mouth,  the  height  of  the  flowers  is  generally  fixed 
as  one  and  a  half  times  that  of  the  vase.  In  the  case  of  broad, 
shallow  receptacles,  the  height  of  the  floral  composition  is  made 
about  one  and  a  half  times  the  breadth  of  the  vessel.  Vases  for 
hooking  on  to  walls  and  for  suspending  from  a  shelf  or  ceiling 
are  also  frequently  used. 

Having  thus  briefly  quoted  from  the  main  principles  of  this 
Japanese  art  as  given  by  Mr.  Conder,  I  shall  now  make  a  few 
homely  suggestions  as  to  how  they  could  be  applied  by  any 
of  us  in  England. 

The  following  practical  directions  may  be  found  useful  to 
those  who  wish  to  try  this  system  of  flower  arrangement  at 
once  with  as  little  trouble  and  as  little  expense  as  possible : — 

Go  round  your  house  and  collect  all  the  china,  earthenware, 
and  metal  vessels  that  can  be  spared — even  a  kettle,  if  nothing 
else  can  be  found,  would  do.  Earthenware  dog-troughs  are 
specially  adapted  to  water  decorations ;  three-legged  witch's 
cauldrons  and  common  salt-jars  also  do  very  well ;  an  ordinary 
earthenware  flower-pot,  with  the  hole  at  the  bottom  corked  up, 
would  lend  itself  to  wedging  purposes ;  and  every  house  con- 
tains some  ornamental  pottery,  bronze,  brass,  or  silver  vessels 
of  a  suitable  kind.  Glass  cannot  be  ustd,  as  the  pressure  of  the 


APPENDIX  361 

wedge  would  crack  it ;  and  for  the  same  reason  it  is  inadvisable 
to  try  to  fix  a  wedge  in  fine  or  valuable  china. 

From  all  these  select  those  of  a  most  suitable  shape — i.e. 
either  broad  and  flat  for  water  decorations ;  or  narrow-necked 
with  a  wide  mouth ;  or  a  tall,  narrow-necked  shape,  suitable  for 
supporting  only  one  branch  without  a  wedge.  If  the  vessel  be 
small,  and  made  only  of  thin  pottery  or  china,  it  should  be 
weighted  by  placing  stones  or  something  heavy  inside  to 
balance  the  weight  of  the  flower  erection ;  without  this  pre- 
caution a  tall  arrangement  might  overbalance  the  whole  thing. 
If  the  vessel  be  heavy  in  itself — of  bronze,  brass,  silver,  or  other 
metals,  or  if  of  earthenware,  sufficiently  large  to  become  heavy 
when  filled  with  water — then  this  additional  weighting  is  not 
necessary. 

Your  next  step  should  be  to  procure  some  narrow  wood — 
fire-lighting  wood,  or  laths  of  any  kind.  Measure  the  width 
of  the  vase  at  the  place  where  the  wedge  is  to  be  fixed ;  this 
should  be  slightly  below  the  surface,  so  as  to  be  concealed  when 
the  vase  is  filled  with  water.  Cut  two  pieces  of  wood  to  the 
required  length,  and  shape  them  at  the  end  to  fit  the  sides 
of  the  vase ;  then  scoop  out  the  inner  side  of  each  piece  of  wood, 
so  as  to  form  an  oval-shaped  opening  when  they  are  placed 
together,  slightly  narrower  below  than  at  the  top  surface,  so  as 
to  allow  the  stalks  a  freer  play  of  direction,  at  the  same  time 
holding  them  firm.  Then  cut  out  a  small  notch  at  each  angle 
of  the  wood,  at  a  distance  of  about  half  an  inch  from  the  ends  ; 
place  the  two  pieces  together,  and  tie  them  firmly  with  string 
at  both  ends  in  the  rut  of  the  notches.  The  string  should  first 
be  soaked,  wound  round  two  or  three  times,  and  firmly  knotted  ; 
it  will  then  remain  quite  secure.  Wire  is  even  better  adapted 
to  the  purpose  than  string. 

A  yet  simpler  way  is,  instead  of  scooping  out  an  oval-shaped 
opening,  to  insert  a  small  extra  piece  of  wood  at  each  end 
between  the  two  woods  that  form  the  wedge,  and,  by  thus 
keeping  them  apart,  make  an  opening  large  enough  for  the 
width  of  the  stems. 

When  the  wedge  is  made,  soak  it  in  water  for  a  few  seconds 
to  make  the  wood  swell ;  then  fix  it  firmly  in  the  neck  of  the 
vase. 

Yet  another  fastener,  and  perhaps  the  most  adaptable  of  any, 


362    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 

consists  simply  of  a  spiral  coil  made  of  sheet -lead  cut  into 
ribbons.  This  can  be  bent  about  to  suit  the  various  sizes 
of  the  stems.  The  weight  of  the  leaden  coil  will  balance  flowers 
and  branches  of  considerable  height,  and  it  can  always  be 
additionally  weighted  with  stones  if  necessary.  This  fastener 
may  be  used  in  almost  every  shaped  vase,  of  no  matter  what 
material ;  for  there  is  no  danger,  as  in  the  case  of  the  fitting 
wooden  fasteners,  that  it  will  crack  glass  or  fine  china.  Any 
plumber  will  supply  the  strips  of  sheet-lead,  which  should  be 
about  2  ft.  long,  f  in.  wide,  and  £  in.  thick,  though  the  sizes 
vary,  of  course,  according  to  the  vase.  It  is  quite  easy  to  bend 
these  strips  into  a  spiral  coil. 

These  are  simple  ways  of  making  flower-holders  at  home 
with  the  most  ordinary  materials;  but,  of  course,  with  more 
trouble  a  great  variety  of  fasteners  can  be  made. 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  is  to  get  a  branch  of  Bamboo  or 
other  thin  stick,  not  too  brittle,  and  cut  it  up  into  pieces  of  about 
an  inch  long,  so  as  to  have  a  heap  of  different  thicknesses. 
Before  proceeding  to  cut  or  buy  your  flowers,  you  must  decide 
in  what  part  of  the  room  to  place  the  decorations,  so  as  to  have 
an  idea  of  what  would  be  suitable  as  to  colour,  size,  and  form. 
If  for  the  corner  of  a  shelf  or  mantelpiece,  the  arrangement 
might  be  high  on  one  side  of  the  vase,  with  a  long  streamer 
pendent  on  the  other.  If  for  a  table  under  a  picture,  it  might 
tend  upwards,  and  the  Tertiary  line  form  almost  a  right  angle 
— in  complement,  as  it  were,  to  the  shape  of  the  frame  when 
placed  to  one  side  underneath  it.  For  any  purpose  special 
kinds  of  flowers  are  required,  as  it  would  be  contrary  to  the 
fundamental  laws  of  the  art  to  try  and  make  a  stiff  or  upward- 
growing  plant  hang  downwards,  or  to  try  and  erect  a  flower 
with  a  limp  stem.  One  place,  too,  requires  a  tall,  narrow 
decoration;  another  a  wide  or  more  solemn  one.  When  you 
have  the  destined  situation  of  the  decoration  in  your  mind,  go 
out  and  choose  flowers  and  shrubs  accordingly,  bearing  in  mind 
as  you  pick  them  the  directions  the  stems  will  have  to  take. 
It  is  as  well  always  to  have  a  basin  of  water  ready  in  which  to 
place  the  flowers  immediately  after  picking  them,  as  in  the 
process  of  selection,  fixing  in  the  wedge,  &c. — especially  until 
you  are  practised  in  the  art — the  flowers  are  apt  to  wither  and 
the  vigour  in  the  curves  of  the  stems  to  get  limp,  so  that  it  is 


APPENDIX  363 

difficult  to  carry  out  any  design.  The  best  plan  is  to  place  the 
vase,  before  filling  it,  where  it  will  eventually  be  required  to 
stand,  so  as  to  be  sure  and  procure  the  suitable  effect.  It  is 
advisable  not  to  put  water  in  the  vessel  until  the  composition 
is  completed,  as  it  sometimes  tips  over  in  the  process  of  fixing 
the  stems  in  the  wedge. 

Before  beginning  the  bouquet,  make  up  your  mind,  in  a 
general  way,  what  branches  and  flowers  to  use  and  how  to 
dispose  them.  Then  first  place  the  principal  ones,  fixing  each 
firmly  in  turn  with  the  bits  of  Bamboo  if  not  large  enough  to 
fill  the  space,  or  by  pruning  the  bottom  of  the  stems  if  too  thick, 
so  as  exactly  to  fit  the  wedge.  All  tree-branches  and  shrubs 
should  have  the  bark  peeled  off  the  part  which  is  under  water, 
as  this  allows  a  freer  entrance  to  the  moisture,  and  so  enables 
the  plant  to  last  fresh  for  a  much  longer  time.  When  you  have 
finished  the  arrangement,  stand  at  a  little  distance,  and  remove 
all  leaves,  shoots,  or  flowers  which  interfere  with  the  clearness 
and  beauty  of  line  from  various  points  of  view.  Then  fill  the 
vase  with  water — slightly  tepid  is  best,  especially  if  the  flowers 
are  at  all  faded.  If  the  wedge  is  still  visible  above  or  through 
the  water,  cover  it  over  with  a  little  Moss  or  other  very  light 
leafage  or,  in  the  case  of  a  water-plant  decoration,  with  some 
small  water  weed. 

The  diagrams  showing  the  trilineal  arrangement  of  stems 
are  taken  from  Mr.  Condor's  book,  and  are  in  strict  accordance 
with  the  rules  of  the  Japanese  art.  The  other  two  illustrations 
of  flower  decorations  are  photographed  from  life,  and  are  merely 
casual  examples  of  the  effect  produced  by  this  system  of  sup- 
porting flowers  by  fasteners,  even  without  conforming  with  any 
great  precision  to  the  laws  adhered  to  in  Japan. 

There  is  hardly  a  flower,  shrub,  or  tree  which  is  not,  at  one 
stage  of  growth  or  other,  adaptable  to  this  style  of  arrangement, 
but  some  of  the  most  obviously  suited  are  here  mentioned  by 
way  of  suggestion.  All  fruit  blossoms,  wild  or  cultivated: 
Blackthorn,  May,  Dog  Eose,  Bramble,  Willow  (more  especially 
in  bud,  known  as  '  palm '),  Maple,  Oak,  Rhododendron,  Azalea, 
Laburnum,  Wistaria,  Tree  Paeony,  Syringa,  Berberis,  Laurus- 
tinus,  Holly,  and  almost  all  kinds  of  Pine  trees ;  Irises,  Narcissi, 
Bulrushes,  Marsh  Marigolds,  Water  Lilies,  Honeysuckle,  Clema- 
tis, Chrysanthemums,  &c. 


364    POT-POURRI   FROM  A   SURREY  GARDEN 

I  have  dwelt  almost  entirely  upon  the  technical  side  of  the 
art,  this  being  the  indispensable  means  to  the  end  in  view. 
But  the  goal  is  one  untouched  by  theory,  unmolested  by  hard- 


Pl'&US  JAPONIC  A   IN   METAL  VASE 


and-fast  rules.  The  wonderful  beauty  ol  proportion  and  balance, 
the  choiceness  of  selection,  the  effect  of  growth  and  vitality,  of 
dignity  and  grace,  with  which  the  whole  of  this  art  is  pene- 
trated, are  not  to  be  expressed  in  any  doctrinal  terms.  The 


APPENDIX  365 

tender  solicitude  which  it  exacts  for  the  habits  and  character- 
istics, tastes  and  welfare  of  each  plant,  endows  the  least  thing 
utilised  by  this  art  with  almost  a  personality.  The  relative  con- 
nection of  one  plant  with  another — the  tall,  aspiring  Principal ; 
the  Secondary,  which  seems  inclined  to  follow  its  lead,  yet 
hesitates  half-way  with  questioning  doubt ;  the  Tertiary  below, 
in  squat  contentment — these  admit  of  endless  variety  of  inter- 
pretation. To  the  Japanese  every  flower  has  its  meaning  and 
associations,  as  well  as  every  combination  of  flowers.  The  force 
of  contrast  is  ever  present  in  their  designs ;  the  opposite  sexes 
are  supposed  to  be  represented,  strength  and  weakness,  stern- 
ness and  tenderness,  &c.  Without  learning  the  grammar  of 
their  complicated  flower-language,  might  we  not  nevertheless 
increase  our  artistic  pleasure  in  flower  arrangements  by  trying 
to  give  them  a  suitableness  and  a  meaning  which  they  have 
hitherto  lacked?  The  old,  long  established  English  fashion  of 
massing  together  in  a  vase  may  still  hold  its  own  for  certain 
kinds  of  flowers ;  but,  so  strong  is  the  fascination  of  the  Japanese 
principle,  that,  once  it  is  adopted,  it  will  probably  assert  its 
authority  even  amongst  a  bunch  of  Primroses  or  Violets. 

CONSTANCE  LYTTON. 


INDEX 


ritpestris,  45 
Abstinence  in  relation  to  health, 

270 

Acanthus,  120 
Aconite,  17 

Acorns  for  decorating,  13 
JEsculus  parvifolia,  144 
Agapanthus,  50,  114 
Ailiums,  102 
Allotment  system,  243 
Aloes,  Cape,  182 
Alonsoa  linifolia,  164 
-  Warscewiczii,  104 
Aloysia  citriodora,  45,  99 
Alpines,  76,  88,  239 
Alstroemerias,  132,  133 
Alyssum,  yellow,  103 
Alyssums,  140 
Amaranthus  caudatus,  113 
Amaryllis,  11,  12,  74 
—  belladonna,  161,  162 
Amateur  artists,  307-316 
Amateurs,  ambition  of,  250 
America,  late  springs  and  early 

heat  in,  200 
Ainnelopsis    veitchii,    157,    158, 

194,  195 

Andrews,  H.,  works  of,  68,  69 
Anemone  apennina,  101 
Anemones,  72,  184 
Animal  food,  a  warning  against, 

304 
Anne,    Queen,    and    her     laws 

against  Catholics,  and  Horace 

Walpole's  designation  of  her, 

59 


Annuals,  time  for  sowing,  42,  86, 
87,  132  ;  selection  of,  164 

Anthemis  tinctoria,  143 

Antirrhinums,  134,  135 

Aponogeton,  141 

Apple-tart,  with  peach-leaves,  177 

Apple-trees  on  turf,  169 

Apples,  how  to  keep,  103;  wind- 
falls of,  184 

Arbutus,  84 

Aristolochia,  95 

Art  for  girls,  310,  311  ;  first 
lessons,  311,  312  ;  defects  of 
schools,  312  ;  an  opening  for 
teachers  of  water-colour  sketch- 
ing, 312 ;  beginners  to  per- 
severe, 313,  314 ;  suggestions 
for  getting  over  difficulties, 
314,  315  ;  water-colour  drawing 
more  suitable  for  amateurs 
than  painting  in  oils,  315,  316 

Art  in  the  house,  277-280 

Artemisia  abrotanum,  94 

Artichokes,  Jerusalem,  cooking, 
203 

Arums,  16,  39,  72 ;  often  mis- 
called'lilies,'  74 

Arundo  donax,  119,  120 

Asparagus,  time  for  planting  and 
treatment  of,  40,  41 ;  method 
of  boiling,  98 

Asparagus  plumosa,  39 

Aspidistras,  treatment  of,  8 

Astrantias,  128,  129 

Athletics,  excessive  addiction  to, 
271 


368    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 


Aubrietias,  140 

Aucubas,  40,  60 

Auriculas,  140 

Autumn,  list  of   trees,  creepers, 

shrubs,  and   plants   for,    190, 

191 

—  annuals,  86,  87,  132 

—  morning,  an,  179,  188,  189 
Azaleas,  17,  72,  138,  169 


BACON,  LORD,  on  gardening,  224 

Bad  temper  in  children,  treat- 
ment of,  327 

Bags  for  dried  leaves,  8 

Balsam,  160 

Bamboos,  leaves  of,  for  table- 
decoration,  13;  growing,  119, 
139,  195,  204 ;  book  on,  246 

Banksia,  yellow,  43 

Barberry,  common,  38,  39 

4  Barnacle  Geese,'  superstition  of, 
57,  58 

Bartonia  aurea,  time  for  sowing, 
42,  164 

Baskets,  plants  for,  163,  164 

Bath-rooms,  285 

Bay-tree,  169 

Beans,  preserving,  153,  203; 
succession  of,  174 ;  cooking, 
176 

Bechamel  sauce,  25  ;  receipt  for 
preparing,  31,  32 

Bedding-out  system,  introduction 
of,  5 ;  objections  to,  48,  49, 
225 

Bedford,  Duke  of,  and  his  gar- 
dener, anecdote  of,  227,  228 

Bedrooms,  furnishing,  284,  285, 
286 

Beds  in  a  garden,  arrangement 
of,  106 

Beech-trees  in  autumn,  205 

Beetroot,  preparing  and  serving, 
25 

Bell-flower,  160 

Berberis  Darwinii,  97,  169 

—  vtilgaris,  38,  39,  96,  169 

Bible,  the,  Martin's  illustrations 
of,  157 

Biennials,  42,  113,  164,  165 


Bignonia  radicans,  43,  104 
Birds,   feeding,   18 ;    boxes    for 

117,  118 

Biscuits,  change  of,  192 
I   Ble  de  Turquie,  55 
j   Blinds,  282 
Blue-bells,  197 
Bocconia  cordata,  61,  119,  139, 

199 

Boltonia  corymbosa,  173 
Bonaparte,   Josephine,   and   her 
fondness  for  gardening,   207, 
208 

Bookcases,  278,  284,  285 
Books  on  gardening,  botany,  &c. : 
Robinson's  '  English  Flower 
Garden,'  1,  et  passim ;  '  The 
Vegetable  Garden,'  1, 13 ;  John- 
son's '  Gardener's  Dictionary,' 
1,  2;  Andrews'  'Botanist's 
Repository,'  20 ;  Mrs.  London's 
'  Gardening  for  Ladies,'  23  ; 
Bright's  '  A  Year  in  a  Lanca- 
shire Garden,'  48,  49,  239; 
Watson's  '  Flowers  and  Gar- 
dens,' 48,  235-238;  Curtis's 
'  Botanical  Magazine,'  49,  62  ; 
'Hortus  Floridus  '  (1614),  50, 
51 ;  Parkinson's  *  Paradisi  in 
Sole,'  (1629),  51-54;  Parkin- 
son's '  Theatre  of  Plants ' 
(1640),  54-56  ;  Gerarde's '  The 
Herbal  or  General  Historic  of 
Plants'  (1633),  56-58;  gar- 
dener's Almanack  for  1691, 
58,59;  DelaQuintinye's'The 
Compleat  Gard'ner '  (1693), 
59;  'English  Herbal,'  by 
W.  Salmon  (1710),  59;  Brad- 
ley's  '  New  Improvements  of 
Planting  and  Gardening ' 
(1739),  59,  60;  Dilleriio's 
'Hortus  Elthamensis'  (1732), 
60  ;  '  Uitgezochte  Planten  ' 
(1771),  60,  61  ;  Curtis'  '  Flora 
Londinensis'  (1771),  61 ;  Eras- 
mus Darwin's  '  The  Loves  of 
the  Plants'  (1791),  62,  63, 
124 ;  Jacquin's  '  Miscellanea 
Austriaca  '  (1778),  63-65  ;  Jac- 
quin's '  Oxalis  Monographia ' 


INDEX 


369 


and  '  Plantarum  Eariorum 
Horti  Caesarei  Schoenbrunnen- 
sis,'  66,  67 ;  Martin's  '  Thirty- 
eight  Plates  with  Explanations ' 
(1794),  67 ;  Stoever's  '  Life  of 
Sir  Charles  Linnaeus,'  67,  68  ; 
Andrews'  '  Botanist's  Eeposi- 
tory'  (1797),  68,  69;  White's 
'  Natural  History  of  Selborne,' 
145,  146;  Ventenat's  'Le 
Jardin  de  la  Malmaison,1  207, 
208 ;  '  La  Botanique  de  J.  J. 
Eousseau,'  208-210 ;  '  Les 
Eoses,'  byEedouteandThorry, 
209  ;  Smith's  '  Exotic  Botany,' 

210,  211;  Nicol's  'Gardener's 
Kalendar,'     211 ;     Thornton's 
'  Small  Family  Herbal,'  211 ; 
Hill's   'Family  Herbal,'  211; 
'The   New    Botanic    Garden,' 

211,  212;    Maund's   'Botanic 
Garden,'  212,213;  Chaumeton's 
'Flore    Medicale,'    213,    214; 
Greene's    '  Universal  Herbal,' 
214-216 ; '  The  Manse  Garden,' 
216;    Sweet's   'Cistineas:    the 
Natural  Order  of  Eock  Eose,' 
216, 217 ;  Loudon's '  Gardener's 
Magazine,'  217,  218  ;  Loudon's 
'Arboretum   Botanicum,'  218, 
219;   Mrs.  Loudon's   'Ladies' 
Magazine  of  Gardening,'  219  ; 
'  Lady's  Companion,'  219,  220 ; 
'  Every  Lady  her  own  Flower 
Gardener,'  220 ;  '  Memoires  du 
Musee    d'Histoire    naturelle,' 
221 ;  '  Memoires  sur  quelques 
Espeees  de  Cactees,'  221 ;  John- 
son's    'History    of     English 
Gardening,'  222  ;  Felton's  '  On 
the  Portraits  of  English  Authors 
on    Gardening,'     223;     'The 
Florist's  Journal  and  Garden- 
ing   Eecord,'    223;     Paxton's 
*  Magazine   of    Botany,'   223- 
225 ;    Culpepper's    '  Complete 
Herbal,'  225,  226;  'Language 
of    Flowers,'    227;    Herbert's 
'  Amaryllidaceae,'  227  ;    '  Pine- 
turn  Woburnensis,'  227,  228; 
Mott's   'Flora  Odorata,'    228,   | 


229;  Pratt's  'Flowers  and 
their  Associations  '  and  '  Field, 
Garden,  and  Woodland,'  229 ; 
Paul's  'The  Eose  Garden, 
229 ;  Newman's  '  History  of 
British  Ferns,'  229  ;  Williams' 
'Ferns  and  Lycopods,'  229  ; 
Hibberd's  'Profitable  Garden- 
ing,' 230;  Deakin's  'Flora  of 
the  Colosseum  of  Eome,'  230  ; 
Stone's  '  Beautiful  -  leaved 
Plants,'  230 ;  Eobinson's '  Parks, 
Promenades,  and  Gardens  of 
Paris,'  '  Subtropical  Garden,' 
and  'Alpine  Flowers  for  English 
Gardens,'  231,  232 ;  Eobinson's 
'Wild  Garden,'  232,  233; 
Vilmorin-Andrieux's  '  Vege- 
table Garden,'  233;  sixth 
edition  of  'English  Flower 
Garden,'  233 ;  *  God's  Acre 
Beautiful,'  233, 234 ;  Eobinson's 
'  Garden  Design  '  and  '  Archi- 
tects' Gardens,'  235;  Smee's 
1  My  Garden :  its  Plan  and 
Culture,'  238 ;  Wooster's  '  Al- 
pine Plants,'  238;  Hazlitt's 
'  Gleanings  from  Old  Garden 
Literature,'  239;  Hope's  'Notes 
and  Thoughts  on  Gardens  and 
Woodlands,'  239,  240  ;  Wood's 
'  Hardy  Perennials,'  240 ; 
'  Days  and  Hours  in  a  Garden,' 
240,  241;  Ellwanger's  'The 
Garden's  Story,'  241,  242; 
Sachs'  '  History  of  Botany,' 
242 ;  Eivers'  '  Miniature  Fruit 
Garden,'  242 ;  Piggott's  '  Gar- 
den of  Japan,'  242 ;  Hole's 
'Book  about  the  Garden  and 
the  Gardener, '242,  243;  Platt's 
'Italian  Gardens,'  243,  244; 
Von  Marilaun's  '  Natural  His- 
tory of  Plants,'  244 ;  Ellacombe's 
'  In  a  Gloucestershire  Garden,' 
245 ;  Grant  Allen's  '  Story  of 
the  Plants,'  245;  Mitford's 
'  Bambo  Garden,'  246  ;  Miss 
Amherst's  '  History  of  Garden- 
ing in  England,'  246 ;  Karr's 
'  Voyage  autour  de  mon  Jardin,' 
B  B 


370  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


247 ;  Sieveking's  '  Praise  of 
Gardens,'  247  ;  Austin's  '  The 
Garden  that  I  Love,'  247; 
'  Gardens  and  Garden  Craft ' 
('  Edinburgh  Eeview  '),  247  ; 
papers  in  '  Journal  of  the  Koyal 
Horticultural  Society,'  247, 
248 ; « The  Garden '  (periodical), 
235  ;  '  Cottage  Gardening  ' 
(periodical),  234,  248 ;  Mr.  J. 
Conder's '  The  Flowers  of  Japan 
and  the  Art  of  Floral  Arrange- 
ment,' Appendix,  353 

Books  on  treatment  in  sickness, 
food,  nursing,  &c.,  304,  305 

Borders,  garden,  92,  134,  151, 
152,  181,  183,  196 

Botany,  works  on,  see  Books  on 
gardening  and  botany 

Bottling  gooseberries,  109 

Bouvardias,  162 

Box,  common,  38,  169 

Boys,  training  of,  257-275 

*  Breakfast '  parties,  196 

Bright 's  '  A  Year  in  a  Lancashire 
Garden,'  48,  49 

Brooms,  117 

Browning,  Mrs.,  anecdote  of,  344 

Brussels  sprouts,  41 

Buddleia  glpbosa,  45,  84,  169 

Bulbs,  forcing,  23  ;  market  for, 
72 ;  selection  of,  102,  131 ; 
method  of  growing,  105 ; 
potting,  123,  181 

Buphthalmum  cordifolium,  136 

1  Burning  bush,'  118 

Buttercup,  water,  89 


CABBAGE,  red,  pickled,  176 
Cactuses,  120,  121,  221 
Cakes,  receipts  for,  81,  82,  187 
Calceolaria  amplexicaulis,  114 
Calceolarias    for    window-boxes, 

201 

Calvary  clover,  42 
Calyca,nthus  prcecox,  43 
Camellia,  229 
Campanula  garganica,  164 

—  grandis,  125 

—  medium.  113 


Campanula  per sicifolia,  113,  124 

—  pyramidalis,  113 

—  ranunculus,  160 

—  turbinata,  132 

Canary- seed   on  moss,  growing, 

12,13 
Candour  in  children,  inculcation 

of,  261 

Candytuft,  83 

Caneton  al'orange,  receipt  for,  79 
Cannabis  sativa,  75,  165 
Cannas,  50 

Canterbury  bells,  113,  125 
Cape  flowering  bulbs,  12,  19,  181 

—  type-plant,  20 

Cardoons,  how  to  cook,  14; 
Chaumeton  on,  213,  214 

Carnations,  in  hanging  pots,  98 
112 ;  treatment  of,  136 ;  138 
replanting,  165,  166,  184 

Carpets,  use  of,  279,  281 

Carriage-drives  to  houses,  170 

Carrots,  cooking,  175,  176,  187 

Cauliflower,  serving,  126 

Ceanothus  c&ruleus.  45 

—  grandiflorus  (Oloire  de    Ver- 
sailles), 44 

Celeriac,  14 

Celeris  en  branches,  demi-glaces, 
receipt  for,  37 

Celery,  with  beetroot,  25  ;  pre- 
paration of,  37 

Cercis,  45 

Cherries,  double,  pruning,  117 ; 
Morella,  175 ;  winter,  10 

Cherry  brandy,  175 

Chervil,  82,  97 

Chestnuts,  Spanish,  6;  dwarf 
horse,  144  ;  cooking,  182 

Chickens,  cooking,  174 ;  stewed, 
186 ;  served  cold,  254,  255 

Chicory,  leaves  of  the,  95 

Children,  training  of,  257-275, 
318-352;  feeding  of,  270;  their 
life  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  273  ;  decorating  their 
own  rooms,  287  ;  their 
health,  302  ;  capability  for 
suffering,  319  ;  bad  temper, 
327;  their  attentions  to  the 
old,  346 


INDEX 


Chimonanthus  fragrans,  11,  19, 
43,  158 

China-roses,  4 

Chive-tops,  97 

Chloroform,  use  of,  296 

Choisya  ternata,  18,  19,  43,  169 ; 
pruning,  117 

Chorozemia,  11 

Chrysanthemums,  for  table  de- 
coration, 13;  replanting,  74, 
132,  143  ;  arrangement,  190 

Chutney,  receipt  for,  126 

Cineraria  cruenta,  20 

Cinerarias,  11,  20 

Cistuses,  84,  216 

Cleanliness  in  the  house,  281 

Clematis,  43,  95,  118,  139 

Clematis  montana,  43,  117 

Clethra,  93,  113,  144 

Cocos  weddeliana,  9 

Coffee,  making,  15,  16 

Colchicums,  180 

Collinsonia,  63 

Colosseum  of  Eome,  plants  and 
flowers  of  the,  230 

Colour-blindness,  162 

Columbines,  169 

Compotes,  120,  127,  175,  186, 
254 

Consomme,  28,  29 

—  aux  ailerons,  30 
Convalescence,  300,  302 

'  Convent  eggs,'  receipt  for,  108 
Convolvulus  mauritanicus,  164 
Cooking,  book  on,  2  ;  in  France, 
78,  80  ;  mistakes  in  English, 
81.    (See  also  under  the  names 
of  various  dishes) 
Coreopsis  grandiflora,  136 

—  lanceolata,  134 
Cotoneasters,  44,  169 

Cotton,  rosemary-leaved  lavender, 

210 

-  plant,   and  the  myth  of  the 
'  vegetable  lamb,'  53 

Crab,  mayonnaise  souffle  of,  125 

Crab  apple,  Siberian,  92, 99;  prun- 
ing, 117  ;  preserving,  176,  177 

Cranberries,  American,  how  to 
cook,  14,  15 

—  Norwegian,  15 


Cratcegus  pyracantha  Icelandi,  44 
Creepers    for  house-fronts,   &G., 

43-46,  157  ;  for  autumn,  190, 

191 

Cremation,  233,  234 
Creme  brulee  pudding,  77 
Crocuses,  179,  180,  197 
Cross,  floral,  20 
Crown  Imperials,  71 
Cryptomeria  japonica,  163,  201 
Cucumber,  serving,  126 ;  cooking, 

126 
Currant    bushes,   protection   of, 

129 

Currant  jelly,  red,  129 
Curry,  making,  108 
-   of     ham      toast,     109;     of 

duck  and  fish,  251,  252 
—  powder,  receipt  for,  108 
Curtains,  282,  286 
Curtis's  '  Flora  Londinensis '  and 

'  Botanical  Magazine,'  49, 61, 62 
Cut-flower    decoration,    10    and 

note,  12,  13,  75,  106,  138 ;  list 

of  flowers,  &c.,  for,  192,  193 ; 

Appendix,  353-365 
Cyclamens,  17,  24 
Cydonia,  44 


DAFFODILS,  17,  72 

'  Dainty  Dishes,'  2  et passim 

Daisies,  Michaelmas,  74,  75,  114, 
132,  143,  173,  205 

Dante,  and  Voltaire's  cynical  re- 
mark, 206 

Daphne  Cneorum,  97 

Darwin,  Erasmus,  and  '  vege- 
table lamb,'  53  ;  and  '  The 
Loves  of  the  Plants,'  62,  63, 
124 

Daturas,  169,  180 

Daughters,  education  and  train- 
ing of,  317-352 

Decorating  house  and  tables,  10- 
13,  75,  106, 138  ;  list  of  flowers 
for,  192,  193  ;  Appendix,  353- 
365 

Delphiniums,  134 

D'Epinay,  Madame,  her  views  on 
woman's  education,  328 
BB  2 


372    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 


Desmodium  penduliflorum,  92 
Deutzia  crenata,  106 

—  elegans,  96 

—  gracilis,  10 
Diosma  shrubs,  181,  182 
Double    flowers  compared  with 

single,  237 

Draperies  for  rooms,  283, 284 
Dress,  340-342 
Dried  fruit,  cooking,  256 

-  leaves,  scented,  8 
Drugs,  danger  of  excess  in  the 

use  of,  303,  304 
Dual  nature,  the,  in  women,  345, 

346 
Duck,  boiled,  receipt  for,  79,  80  ; 

minced  and  curried,  251,  252 
Dutch  garden  for   a  lawn,  139, 

140,  141 


EAKLY  rising,  349 

Echeveria  retusa,  12 

Edinburgh,  National  Gallery  of, 
156,  157 

Education,  of  boys,  259-262 ;  of 
girls,  317,  319-332 

Eggs,  receipt  for  cooking,  108 

Elder,  153 

Eliot,  George,  on  nursing  the 
sick,  297,  298 

Entertainments,  social,  350 

Epilobium,  75 

Epimediums,  99 

Erigeron  speciosus,  143 

Eschscholtzias,  165 

Eucalyptus,  16 

Eulalias,  119 

Evergreens,  Mme.  de  Stael's  de- 
scription of,  19  ;  climbing,  43 ; 
in  pots,  115  ;  to  be  avoided  in 
London,  194 

Everlasting  flowers,  7,  132 

Exochorda  grandiflora,  93 

Extravagant  wives,  339 


FADS,  avoidance  of,  in  training 

children,  259 
Fasteners  for  flowers,  Appendix, 

357,  362 


Feeding  of  children,  270 
Ferns  for  London  gardens,  198 
Fertilisation  of  plants,  63 
Ficus  elastica,  8,  9 

—  elastica  indica,  8,  9 
Fig-trees,  196 

Finger-bowls,  flowers  in,  192 
Fireplaces,  279,  280 

Fish,  cooking,  41, 42;  marinaded, 
82 ;  decline  in  consumption 
after  the  Eeformation,  147, 
148 

Fishermen  taking  to  piracy  after 
the  Reformation,  148 

Flax,  blue,  75 

Floor,  painted,  281,  284  ;  cover- 
ings for,  279,  281,  284 

1  Flora  Londinensis,'  Curtis's, 
61 

Flower  fasteners,  Appendix,  357, 
362 

Flowers,  packing,  107 

Foam-flower,  103 

Fog  in  the  country,  188 

Food  and  health,  304,  305 

Forcemeat,  receipt  for,  33,  34 

Forget-me-nots,  89,  140,  184, 198 

Forsythia  fortunei,  44,  70,  196 

—  suspensa,  43,  70,  196 
Fountains,  92,  140,  141 
Foxgloves,  170 
Freesias,  12,  17,  123 

French  country-house,  a,  house- 
keeping in,  78 

—  novels,    recommended    for 
mothers,  262 

—  pie,  80 

—  receipts  for   soups,    sauces, 
poultry,     jellies,    &c.,    28-37, 
79-82 

Friendships,  early,  274,  335,  336 

Fritillarias,  105 

Frost,  on  window-panes,  21,  22  ; 

methods  for  keeping  out,  99, 

198,  189 
Fruit,  increase  in  its  cultivation, 

242 ;  dried,  and  how  to   cook 

it,  256  ;  bavarois  of,  256 
Fuchsia  procumbens,  163,  164 
Fuchsias,  112 
Fumitory,  161 


INDEX 


373 


Furnishing  and  managing  houses, 
276-288  ;  books  on  the  subject, 
276,  277  ;  '  Lectures  '  and 
views  of  W.  Morris,  277-281 ; 
the  rule  of  simplicity,  278; 
fireplaces  and  tiled  hearths, 
279,  280  ;  pianos,  280  ;  the  use 
of  Sanitas,  280 ;  cleanliness, 
281 ;  second-hand  goods,  281, 
282  ;  blinds  and  curtains,  282  ; 
whitewashed  and  draped  walls, 
283,  284;  bookcases,  284; 
articles  for  bedrooms,  284, 
285;  baths,  285  ;  bedding,  286  ; 
pictures,  287;  children's  tastes, 
287 ;  tables,  287,  288 


GAILLARDIAS,  134,  136 

Gainsborough,  portrait  of  Mrs. 
Grahame  by,  156 

Garden,  an  old-fashioned,  4,  5, 
236 ;  plan  of  author's,  87-93; 
planning  and  laying  out  a 
small,  106,  141,  142,  169; 
taking  notes  of  a,  137 

Gardening,  in  winter,  17-19  ;  as 
an  employment  for  women,  40 ; 
advance  of  knowledge  on,  60 ; 
love  and  watchfulness  in,  75  ; 
in  France,  83,  84 ;  monastic, 
147,  149  ;  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  151-153, 
157,  158;  topiary,  159;  wild, 
170,  171, 232,  233  ;  in  London, 
194-201 ;  an  occupation  for 
the  elderly,  245 

Garlic,  use  of,  251 

Garrya  elliptica,  43 

Gascony  butter,  108 

Generosity  and  its  counterfeit, 
266 

Gentians,  76 

Geranium,  sweet,  leaves  of,  8; 
placed  on  water,  11 ;  grown  in 
pots,  113 

Geraniums,  double  red,  for  table- 
decoration,  13 ;  in  hanging 
pots,  98;  grown  in  pots,  111, 
112 ;  planting  out,  120,  121 ; 
ivy-leaved,  164 ;  for  London,  198 


Gerarde's '  The  Herbal  or  General 

Historie  of  Plants,'  56-58 
'  Giant '  cultivation,  41 
Gilbert,  Mr.,  sculpture  by,  291 
Girls,   as   amateur  artists,  307- 
316 ;  increase  in  their  educa- 
tional advantages,  309  ;  their 
education,  317-332;  thinking 
about  marriage,  327-330  ;  their 
liberty  and  independence,  330; 
higher    education,  331,    332; 
what  they  should  read,  332, 
333 ;  allowances  for,  338,  339  ; 
their  dress,  340,  342 
Gladioli,  69 

Gloriosa  superba,  123,  124 
Gloucester,  Duke    of,    and    the 

Lady  Anne,  picture  of,  293 
Gnocchi  a  la  creme,  30,  31 
Gold-fish  in  garden  tanks,  141 
Gooseberries,    bottled,   109;    in 

Scotland,  152 
Gourds,  7,  8 

Governesses,  training  of,  319, 320 
Grahame,  Mrs.,  Gainsborough's 

portrait  of,  156 
Grasses,  Japanese,  93 
Greenhouse,  plants  for,  7,  25,  72, 
73,  123,  124, 163,  165, 173, 181 
Gypsophila  paniculata,  136 
—    gracilis,    time    for    sowing 
42,  94,  184 


HAM  toast,  curry  of,  109 
Hampton      Court    Palace,     the 

creeper  on  the  turrets  of,  158 
Handwriting,  good,  importance 

of,  331 
Hare,  roast,  German  receipt  for 

82 

Haricot  of  mutton,  252 
Haricot  blanc,  185 
Hashed  mutton,  251 
Health    question,    the,    in    the 

training  of  children,  258,  270  ; 

books  on,  304,  305 
Heaths,  69 

Helianthemums,  84,  216,  217 
Helianthuses,  50 
Helichrysum  bracteatum,  7 


374  POT-POURRI  FROM  A  SURREY  GARDEN 


Hellebore,  50 

Hemp  plant,  75,  165 

Hepaticas,  77 

'  Herbal  or  General  Historic  of 
Plants,  The,'  Gerarde's,  56-58 

Herbs,  science  of,  in  past  and 
present  times,  56,  61 

Heuchera  sanguined,  73,  169 

Higher  education  of  women,  331, 
332 

Holland  House  Gardens,  199 

Holly,  for  table  decoration,  13  ; 
berries  of,  204 

Hollyhocks,  3.63 

Home-life,  and  the  training  of 
children,  259  ;  and  furnishing, 
decorating,  and  domestic 
management,  276-288 ;  pro- 
fessional nursing  a  cause  of  its 
deterioration,  296,  297 

Honesty,  seed-vessels  of,  7 

Honeysuckle,  4  ;  Dutch,  43,  93  ; 
pruning,  117,  139 

'  Hortus  Floridus,'  50,  51 

Hospitals  versus  home-nursing, 
298 

House-fronts,  creepers  for,  43-46 

Housekeepers,  advice  to,  on 
hospitality,  255 ;  hints  to, 
347,  348 

Houses,  fittings  and  furniture  for, 
276-288 

Housewives,  a  book  for,  277 

Humea  elegans,  163 

Hyacinths,  11,  23,  72,  197 

Hydrangea  paniculata  grandi- 
flora,  131,  199 

Hydrangeas,  114 

IBKRIS  gibraltarica,  83 

Icebergs,  and  their  effect  on  tem- 
perature, 198 

Imantophilums,  25,  26,  73 

Impatiens  glandulifera,  161 

Independence,  habits  of,  impor- 
tance of  training  children  in, 
258,  259  ;  of  young  women, 
330,  336,  337 

India-rubber  plants,  8 

Indian  corn,  and  its  cultivation 
by  Eed  Indians,  55,  56 


Iris,  25,  140,.  Japanese,  89; 
German,  100, 105,  197  ;  Span- 
ish, 135,  184,  197;  English, 
135 

Irishman,  the,  and  his  trans- 
formed cottage,  94 

Italy,  gardens  in,  243,  244 

Ivy,  common,  potting  and  train- 
ing for  indoor  purposes,  8 ; 
on  house-fronts,  42  ;  Japanese, 
158 

Ixias,  69 


,  119 
Jacquin,  N.  J.,  life  and  botanical 

works  of,  63-67 
Jam,   rhubarb,   96;    strawberry, 

120;    crab,  176,  177;  quince, 

184 
'  Janet's  Kepentance,'   quotation 

on  nursing  the  sick  from,  297, 

298 
Japan,  chrysanthemum  shows  in, 

189 ;  gardens  in,  242 
Japanese   art  of   arranging    cut 

flowers,  Appendix,  353-365 

-    vases,    10    and   note,   201 ; 

Appendix,  360 
Jasmine,  yellow,  44  ;  white,  104, 

196 
Jasminum  nudiflorum,  11,    19, 

43,  158,  196 
Jekyll,  Miss,  papers  on  a  Surrey 

garden  by,  250,  251 
Jews-mallow,  95 
Jonquils,  17  ;  forcing,  23 
Judas  tree,  45 

Juggler,  mental  training  of  a,  4 
Julienne  soup,  29,  30 


KEMPFERI,  89 

Kerrias,  95,  119 

Kitchen,  the,    management    of, 

78 
Kitchen  garden,  86,  135 


LABURNUMS,  pruning,  117 
Lachenalia  aurea,  19,  182 


INDEX 


375 


Lamb-plant,  the,  myth  of,  52,  53 

Lancaster,  its  general  appearance 
and  canal,  159 

Lard,  a  substitute  for,  78 

Laurels,  19, 167,  180 

Lavender,  8,  104 

Lawns,  objections  to,  138 ;  break- 
ing up,  138,  139,  142,  169 

Leaves,  dried,  for  perfuming 
rooms,  8 

Leighton,  Lord,  last  work  by,  292 

Leonotis  leonurus,  182 

L'6p6e  de  la  Vierge,  131 

'Leper's  Wife,  the,'  picture  of, 
293,  294 

Letters,  prompt  answers  to,  331 

Lettuce,  37,  97 

Leucojum  vernum,  24 

Leycesteria  formosa,  119 

Liberalism  defined,  146 

Libraries,  gardening,  for  villages, 
248 

Lilac  Daphne,  39 

Lilacs,  100  ;  pruning,  117 

Lilium  auratum,  163 

—  candidum,  130 

—  chalcedonicum,  200 

Lily,   St.  Bruno's,  9;  creeping, 

123,  124  ;  Madonna,  130,  184 ; 

of  the  valley,  133,  200  ;  water, 

141 

Limnanthes  Douglasii,  164,  184 
Linarias,  75 

Lind,  Jenny,  anecdote  of,  154 
Linnaeus,   60 ;    his    '  Life '    and 

works,  67,  68 
Linnea  borealis,  69 
Linums,  74 

Lobelia,  142,  143,  188,  198 
London,  gardening  in,  194-201 ; 

a  day  in,  289-295 

-  Pride,  106, 169, 187, 188,  198 
Loudon,     Mrs.,     story    of    her 

marriage,  and  her  works,  218- 
221 

-  J.  C.,  works  of,  217-219 
Love-in-the-mist,  time  for  sow- 
ing, 42,  184  ;  63,  94,  95 

Love-lies-bleeding,  113 
<  Loves     of    the     Plants,    The,' 
Darwin's,  62,  63,  124 


Luncheon  dishes :  mayonnaise 
souffle  of  crab,  125  ;  tomatoes 
with  mayonnaise  sauce,  &c., 
125 


MACHE,  24,  25 

Magnolia  conspicua,  44,  171, 196 

—  grandiftora,  12,  43,  196 

—  purpurea,  44 

-  stellata,  44,  171 

Maigre  dishes,  80,  81 

Maize,  and  its  cultivation  by  Red 

Indians,  55,  56 
Manure,  11,  17,  18,  41,  144 
Marguerites,  French,  112,  201 
Marigolds,  132, 188, 189, 198, 205 
Marmalade,  orange,  making,  27 
Marriage,  preparation  for,  327 

330 

Marriages,  poor,  273,  274 
Martin's    illustrations    of     the 

Bible,  157 
Marvels  of  Peru,  50 
Mayonnaise  sauce,  25 
Meconopsis,  128 
Megaseas,  169,  184 
Melon  compote,  186 
Mesembryanthemums,  164 
Mezereum,  39 
Mignonette,  time  for  sowing,  42, 

165;  197 

Mill,  J.  S.,  on  education,  335 
Mint,  98 
Model,  artist's,  in  the  Academy, 

294,  295 
Money,  the  value  of,  importance 

of  teaching  boys,  263-266 
Montbretias,  112 
Moral  faults,  lenient  views  of, 

351,  352 
Morley,  Mr.  John,  on  excessive 

addiction  to  pleasure  and  sport, 

271 ;     on    success,    272 ;     on 

popular  culture,  325 
Morris,  W.,  his  '  Lectures  on  Art ' 

and  ideas  on  house-furnishing. 

277-280 
Mothers,  tact  of,  269,  322  ;  their 

ignorance  of    their    children, 

318 ;  hints  to,  321-324,  333 


376    POT-POURRI   FROM   A  SURREY   GARDEN 


Mousse  de  foies  gras  a  la  gelee, 

receipt  for,  36 

—  de  volaille,  receipt  for,  34 
Mulberries,  139 
Museums,  private,  advantages  of, 

155 

Music  as  a  sociable  hobby,  310 
Musk,  165 
Mutton,  hashed,  251 ;  haricot  of, 

252 

Myrtles,  112,  114 
Myth,   of  the  '  vegetable  lamb,' 

52,    53;     of    the     'Barnacle 

Geese,'  57,  58 

NARCISSUS,  16 ;  forcing,  23,  72 

Narcissus  poeticus,  105 

Nasturtiums,  46,  198 

National  Gallery  of  Edinburgh, 

156,  157 

Natural  History  of  Selborne,' 
145,  146 

Nerines,  181 

Nettles,  preparing  and  cooking,  26 

Nicotiana,  50 

Nitrate  of  soda,  usefulness  of,  173 

North,  Miss,  flower-painting  of, 
244 

Norway,  plants  in,  153;  compared 
with  Scotland,  156 

Nouilles  fraiches,  receipt  for, 
36,  37 

Novel-reading  for  girls,  333 

Novels,  French,  recommended 
for  mothers,  262 

Nursery,  the,  making  up,  74,  75 

Nurses,  sick :  their  difficult  posi- 
tion as  servants  of  the  doctor, 
298 ;  their  hard  life,  299,  300 ; 
discretion  required  in  selecting 
them,  300 ;  temptations  to 
which  they  are  exposed,  301 ; 
hardening  effect  of  their  train- 
ing, 301 ;  in  France,  301 

Nursing  the  sick,  296-302 

OAKS,  6 

Old-fashioned  garden,  an,  4,  5, 

236 
Old  maid,  French,  visit  to  a,  83 


Old  times  compared  with  the  pre- 
sent, 145,  146,  273 

Oleanders,  112,  113 

Omphalodes  verna,  71 

Onions,  97,  98 

Ophiopogon  spicatus,  173 

Orange,  mock,  45 

—  compote,  254 

Orchid-growing  on  a  small  scale, 
249,  288 

Ornithogalum,  72, 131 

Ox-tail  soup,  80,  81 

Oxalises,  66,  215 


PACKING  cut-flowers,  107 
Painting,  effect  of  the  Eeforma- 

tion  on,  149,  150 
Pampas  grass,  16 
Pandanus  veitchii,  9 
Pansies,  198 
'Paradisi  in  Sole,'  Parkinson's, 

51-54 
Parents,  influence   of,  259,  260, 

262,  268,  269,  333,  346 ;  ignor- 
ance regarding  their  children, 

318 
Parkinson's  'Paradisi  in   Sole,' 

51-54;    'Theatre   of   Plants,' 

54-56 

Parnassia,  63 

Parsley,  decorating  with,  82 
Parsnip,  giant,  120 
Partridge,  stewed,  186 
Paste,  making,  for  French  and 

other  dishes,  30-33 
Pastry,  preparing  and  baking,  27 
Pate  a  Eavioli,  receipt  for,  32 
Paul,    Mrs.    Kegan,    article    on 

'  Paradisi  in  Sole '  by,  53,  54 
Pavia,  144 
Paxton,  Sir  Joseph,  his  influence 

on  English  gardening,  224,  225 
Peas,  green,  for  puree,  25  ;  stewed, 

129  ;  late,  174 

Pelargoniums,  20,  21,  69,  120 
Percolators  for  making  coffee,  15, 

16 
Perennials,  time  for  sowing,  134 

watering,  143 
Pergolas,  45,  95, 


INDEX 


377 


Periwinkles,  169 

PJialangium  liliago  variegatum, 
9 

Pheasant,  stewed,  186 

Philadelphus  grandiflorus,  45 

Philanthropy,  amateur,  to  be 
discouraged,  308,  309 

Phloxes,  74,  75,  132,  143 

Physalis  Alkekengi,  10 

Pianos,  279,  280 

Pictures,  in  houses,  278,  279, 
287 ;  in  the  Royal  Academy, 
292-294 

Pie,  French,  80 

Pig  lilies,  74 

Pigeons,  cooking,  174,  175  ; 
flight  of,  206 

Pilea  muscosa,  163 

Pinks,  140,  143,  184,  198 

Piptanthus  nepalensis,  45 

Piracy,  increase  of,  after  the 
Reformation,  147,  148 

Pleasure,  excessive  addiction  to, 
271 

Plum,  double,  10 

Plumbago  larpentce,  161 

Poems  quoted  or  alluded  to : 
'  I  remember,  I  remember,'  5  ; 
'  Go  where  the  water  glideth,' 
&c.,  by  J.  H.  Reynolds,  5,  6  ; 
Shelley's  description  of  damp, 
17  ;  lines  on  the  death  of  a 
young  girl,  20;  'John  Frost,' 
21,  22 ;  '  The  Poet  in  the  City,' 
46,  47 ;  Erasmus  Darwin  on 
the  '  vegetable  lamb,'  53  ; 
Darwin's '  Loves  of  the  Plants,' 
62,  63;  Owen  Meredith's  de- 
scription of  a  garden  in  spring, 
85;  'Baby  Seed  Song,'  87; 
Mrs.  Hemans'  '  To  the  Blue 
Anemone,'  101,  102  ;  Paul 
Verlaine's  '  La  Vie,'  133,  134  ; 
Emerson's  lines  on  shells, 
155  ;  lines  to  the  redbreast, 
178,  179  ;  Milton  on  the  rising 
sun,  188;  Keats'  'St.  Agnes' 
Eve,'  189  ;  '  La  Melancolie,' 
206,  207  ;  Mr.  Ruskin's  '  Mont 
Blanc  revisited,'  231 ;  Matthew 
Arnold's  Obermann  Poems, 


232;  memorial  poem  by  Sir 
Henry  Taylor,  268;  James 
Spedding's  '  Antiquity  of  Man,' 
274,  275  ;  Mr.  Lionel  Tenny- 
son's 'Sympathy,'  306;  'Omar 
Khayyam,'  352 

Polyanthus,  164 

Polygonum  affine,  161 

—  cuspidatum,  92,  119,  199,  205 

—  sacchalinensc,  119,  199 
Pomegranate,  double,  112 
Pond-weed,  141 

Ponds,  natural,  171 
|  Poppies,   Oriental,   5;   time  for 

sowing,    42;     for    decoration, 

106  ;  Plume,  119  ;  Welsh,  128, 
i       160 
Portraits  in  the  Royal  Academy, 

292 

Pot  au  feu  soup,  28 
Pot-pourri,  a  receipt  for,  241, 242 
Potage  paysanne,  receipt  for,  79 
Potatoes,   cooking,   13,  98,  252 

253 
Pots,  plants  in,  and  evaporation, 

98  ;     hanging,    98  ;     growing 

plants  in,  110-115 
Poultry,  preparing  and  roasting, 

78,79 

Primroses,  140,  164,  199 
Primula  japonica,  89 

—  sieboldii,  72 

—  sinensis,  11 

Primulas,  for  table  decoration, 
13  ;  Chinese,  24 ;  Japanese,  89 

Privet,  169,  195 

Procosma  variegata,  114 

Proteas,  68 

Protection  for  plants,  144,  198 
199 

Pruning,  shrubs,  116,  117,  180; 
instruments  for,  181 

Prunus,  double,  105 

—  spinosaflore  pleno,  10 
Public  schools,  training  of,  259 
Pudding,  receipt  for  a,  77 
Puree,  25,  26 
Pyracanthuses,  44,  204 
Pyrethrum,  173 

Pyrus  japonica,  43,  44  ;  pruning, 
117  ;  Appendix,  364 


378    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 


QUINCE  jam,  184,  185 


BABBIT'S  EAES  plant,  104,  105 
Bain-water,  storage  of,  137,  288 
Ranunculus  lingua,  89 
Bavioli,  preparation  for,  32,  33 
Beading  of  novels  by  girls,  333 
Bedbreast,  the,  tameness  of,  178  ; 

lines  to,  178,  179 
Beformation,  the,  its  effect  on  the 
cultivation    of    gardens,    con- 
sumption   of    vegetables    and 
fish,  147,  148 

Bhododendrons,  96,  167,  237 
Bhubarb,  receipt  for  cooking,  26, 

27 ;  jam,  96 
Rhus  cotinus,  118 
Bibbon-borders,  151 
Ribes  sanguinum,  104,  196 
Bice  for  curry,  to  boil,  108,  109 
Bichter,  J.  P.  F.,  on  an  unhappy 

marriage,  329,  330 
Bisotto,  Italian  receipts  for,  107, 

253,  254 

Bobinson,     W.,     his     'English 
Flower    Garden '    and    other 
works,  1,  231,  233-235,  248 
Robinsoniana,  72 
Rochea  falcata,  163 
Bock-roses,  84,  85,  216 
Bockery,  making  a,  88-90 
Sockets,  double,  5, 73 ;  single,  103 
Booms,  plants   and  flowers  for, 
7-13  ;  letting  the  autumn  sun 
into,  202 

Bose,  Beve  d'Or,  43  ;  La  Marque, 
43,  137;  Marshal  Niel,  43; 
McCartney,  45  ;  Aim6e  Vibert, 
45 ;  Gloire  des  Rosemaines, 
45 ;  Fallenberg,  45  ;  tea,  88, 
140,  205  ;  moss,  93 ;  Gloria 
Mundi,  95 ;  Cottage-maid, 
95 ;  De  Meaux,  95  ;  cabbage, 
95,  209;  Ayrshire,  139;  Mal- 
maison,  209 ;  Banksia,  209  ; 
Christmas,  18;  lucida,  209; 
Bourbon,  229 
Bosemary,  104 

Boses,  Bedoute's  illustrations  of, 
209 


Boyal  Academy  of  Arts,  pictures 
and  sculpture  in,  291-295 

—  Horticultural  Society,  spring 
exhibition  of,  23,  24 ;  member- 
ship of,  24 

Buling  by  force,  267,  268 

Bush,  sweet-smelling, 141;  flower- 
ing, 141 

Buskin,  Mr.,  on  gathering 
flowers,  4 


ST.  JOHN'S  WORT,  169 

'  St.  Luke's  Summer,'  188 

Salads,  24,  25,  95,  96,  97,  254 

Salpiglossis,  165 

Salsifys,  cooking,  13 

Salvias,  173,  174 

Sambucus  racemosa,  153 

Sanitas  in  a  house,  use  of,  280 

Sargent,  Mr.,  Portrait  of  a  Lady, 

292 
Sauce,    Bechamel,    25,   31,   32; 

mayonnaise,  25  ;  supreme,  34, 

35  ;  fish,  107 ;   for  wild  duck, 

253 

Savins,  139 
Saxifraga  granulata  flore  pleno, 

73 

—  wallacei,  73 
Saxifrages,   24,    105,    138,    140, 

184,  187,  198 
Scabiosa  caucasica,  184 
Scabious,  132 
Scarlet  runners,  preserving,  150  ; 

flavour  of,  174  ;  cooking,  176, 

185  ;  growing,  205 
Schizophragma  hydrangeoides,46 
Schizostylis  coccinea,  187 
Schools,  and  the  training  of  boys, 

259,  260 

Scilla  campanulata,  105 
Scillas,  24,  72,  197 
Scotland,  a  trip  to,  151-158 
Sculpture  of  Mr.  Gilbert,  291 
Scythian  lamb,  the,  myth  of,  52 

53 

Sea-birds  in  Scotland,  154 
Seaweed,  the  Laver,  as  a  vegetable 

dish,  253 
Second-hand  furniture,  281,  282 


INDEX 


379 


Sedum  spectabile,  132 
Seedlings,  treatment  of,  165 
Servants  and  their  management, 

348,  349 

Shading  a  window,  194 
Shelter  in  gardens,  99 
Shrubberies,    flowers    in,     151; 

treatment  of,  166, 167 ;  thinning 

out,  168  ;  edging  for,  169,  181 
Sickness,  nursing  in,   296-302; 

often  caused  by  excess  in  taking 

drugs,  303,  304 
Silene,  106,  184 
Simplicity  in    house-furnishing, 

278 
Simpson,    Sir    James,    and    his 

brothers,  story  of,  266 
Smith,  Sydney,  one  of  the  sayings 

of,  335 

Smoking  indoors,  276,  277 
Snapdragons,  134,  135,  170,  184 
Snowdrops,  20,  24,  197 
Snowflakes,  24 

Social  entertainments,  350,  351 
Solanumjasminoides,  17,  113 
Sorrel,  76 
Soup,  pure"e,  25 ;  pot  au  feu,  28  ; 

consomme^  28,  29 ;    julienne, 

29, 30 ;  consomm6  aux  ailerons, 

30 ;  paysanne,  79 ;   ox-tail,  80, 

81 ;  onion,  83, 126  ;  cauliflower, 

126 ;  artichoke,  203 
Southernwood,  94 
Spanish  Armada,  and  a  tradition 

on  the  coast  of  Scotland,  155, 

156 

Sparmannia  africana,  182 
Spencer,   Mr.  Herbert,  book  on 

education  by,  328 
Spiderworts,  103,  104 
Spirc&a  aruncus,  5 
—  thunbergi,  93 
Spiraeas,  93,  206 
Sprayer  for  watering,  76 
Stachys  lanata,  104,  105 
Stae'l,  Mme.  de,  her  description 

of  evergreens,  19 ;  on  parents 

and  children,  334 
Stapelias,  122 
Stewed  meats,  252 
Stewpans,  16 


Strawberries,  selection  of  varie- 
ties and  growing,  120;  com 
pote  of,  120 

Suburbs,  living  in  the,  advan- 
tages of,  289,  290 

Success,  meaning  of,  272 

Succession  duties,  and  allow- 
ances to  children,  266 

Suet,  boiled,  for  frying  purposes, 
78 

Sumach,  Venetian,  118,  139 

Sundials,  94,  140 

Sunflowers,  50,  86 

Sunsets,  91 

1  Superficial '  education,  325, 326 

Surrey,  soil  and  climate  of,  17 

Swanley  Horticultural  College, 
39,40 

Sweet-peas,  165 

Sweet  pepper  bush,  93,  113,  144 

Sweet  Sultans,  time  for  sowing, 
42 

Sweetbriar,  4,  104 

Sweetness  and  light  in  a  house, 
280 

Sweets  with  meat,  eating,  15 


TABLE  decoration,  10-13,  75, 106, 

138;  list  of  flowers,  &c.,  for, 

192,  193 ;  Appendix,  353-365 
Tables,  287,  288 
Tagetes,  132 
Tamarisks,  119 
Tanks  for  the  garden,  137,  140, 

141 

Tarragon,  97,  98 
Tarts,  making,  27 
Taylor,  Sir  Henry,  '  Notes  from 

Life '  and  other  works  by,  268, 

269 

Teetotalism,  benefits  of,  304 
Telekia  speciosa,  136 
Temper  in  children,  treatment 

of,  327 
Temple  Gardens  flower  shows, 

24,  103 
'  Theatre  of  Plants,'  Parkinson's, 

54-56 
Tiarella  cordifolia,  103,  169 


380    POT-POURRI   FROM   A   SURREY   GARDEN 


Tiepolo,  paintings  of,  156,  157 

Tomatoes,  with  mayonnaise 
sauce,  &e.,  125  ;  stewed  when 
unripe,  175 

Tomtits,  arrangement  for  feed- 
ing, 18 

Topiary  gardening,  159 

Tradescantia  virginica,  103,  161 

Training  of  children,  257-275 

Trees,  destroyed  in  Sutherland- 
shire,  153,  154 

Tricuspidata,  158 

TropcBolum  speciosum,  46,  152 

Truthfulness,  and  the  training  of 
children,  260,  261 

Tuberoses,  162 

Tubs,  growing  plants  in,  110, 
111 

Tulip  gesneriana,  96 

Tulips,  forcing,  23  ;  varieties,  72, 
103  ;  history,  96 ;  in  the  au- 
tumn, 184 

Turf,  substitutes  for,  84,  169  ;  to 
be  avoided  in  London,  195 

Turkeys,  natives  of  America,  15 

Turnip-tops,  preparing  and  cook- 
ing, 26 

Turnips,  cooking,  187 


VASES,  Japanese,  10  and  note, 
Appendix,  360 

1  Vegetable  lamb,'  the,  myth  of, 
52,53 

Vegetables,  dressing  and  cooking, 
3,  13,  14,  16,  25,  26,  41,  76, 
175,  176,  185,  187,  203,  252, 
253 ;  for  soups,  25,  28-30,  41, 
76,  126,  203 ;  neglect  of  their 
cultivation  after  the  Keforma- 
tion,  147,  149 

Vegetarianism,  benefits  of,  304 

Verbascums,  134 

Verbena,  sweet,  leaves  of,  8  ;  for 
walls,  45;  cultivation,  99,  100; 
for  London,  198 

Veronica  spicata,  132 

Veronicas,  84,  114,  249 

Viburnum,  pruning,  117,  169 

Villagers'  gardens,  243 


Vine,  claret- coloured,  45,  95, 
139 

Vines,  taking  cuttings  of,  104 ; 
for  window-shading,  194 

Violas,  138,  187, 198 

Violets,  giant  ('  Princess  Bea- 
trice '),  19 ;  Neapolitan,  11,  73, 
172,  205 ;  white  dog-tooth,  105 ; 
Marie  Louise,  172  ;  Czar,  173 ; 
grown  in  Dutch  gardens,  183 

Virginia  creeper,  157 ;  in  London, 
194,  195 

Vitis  coigneticB,  45 

—  vulpina,  66 

Vol-au-vent  au  maigre,  81 

Voltaire,  his  cynical  remark  on 
Dante,  206 


WALLFLOWERS,    164,   184 ;    time 

for  planting,  200 
Walls,  creepers  for,  43-46,  157  ; 

whitewashed,  for  rooms,  283 
Water  buttercup,  89 
Water-plants,  141 
Watercress,  83 
Watering,  76,  143,  196,  199 
Watson,   Forbes,    his    '  Flowers 

and  Gardens,'  and  some  of  his 

opinions,  235-238 
Wax  for  fruit-bottles,  109,  110 
Weather,  whims  of  the,  70 
Weeding,  90,  116 
Weigelias,  pruning,  117 
West  aspect  for  country  houses, 

91 

Wheat-growing  on  moss,  12,  13 
Whims  of  the  weather,  70 
White's    'Natural    History    of 

Selborne,'  145,  146 
Whitewashed  walls,  advantages 

of,  283 
Whitings,    French    method    of 

cooking,  41,  42 

Wild  gardens,  170,  171,  232,  233 
Willow- weed,  75 
Window,  shading  a,  194 
Window-boxes  in  London,  200, 

201 
Winter  gardening,  7,  17-19 


INDEX 


381 


Wistaria,  trained  over  posts,  42, 
43 ;  for  window-shading,  194 

Wives,  extravagant,  339  ;  duties 
of,  339,  340 ;  intellectual  occu- 
pation for,  343 ;  with  pro- 
fessions, 344,  345 

Women,  as  thinkers,  3 ;  garden- 
ing as  an  employment  for,  40 ; 
as  sick  nurses,  299,  300;  as 
amateur  artists,  307-316 ;  their 
education,  317-352 ;  higher 
education,  331,  332;  and  the 
power  of  character,  340 


Work  amongst  the  poor,  ama- 
teurs to  be  discouraged  from, 
308,  309 

Wreaths,  funeral,  20 


'  YEAR  in  a  Lancashire  Garden, 
A,'  Bright's,  48,  49,  239 

Yews,  169 

Youth  and  age  contrasted,  274, 
275 

ZAVSCHNERIA.  californica,  223. 


DINTED    BY 

SPOTTISWOODE    AND    CO.,    NEW-STREBT    SQUARE 
LONDON 


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